Silent Mask
by Jinx333
Summary: Lies, hidden pasts, and a reunion of awkward feelings and heartbreak. Who knew life would be this hard to handle? In my time at Hogwarts and as an adult, I wanted no part of this misfortune.
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own Harry Potter!** Also, Anna's personality has some remanence of Monica from The True About Forever by Sarah Dessen, but not too much.

**Sly's POV:**

Chaos can help distract the mind, or that's what I've told myself to believe because past incidents leave scars that feel like they will never fully heal...

The party was bustling—for as far as these situations go—and despite our lack of Firewhiskey at the bar.

"Anna crashed into something again," Delilah grumbled in frustration. "We have about two minutes to pick up the mess before the Upper's notice." I immediately followed her with a contained sigh. I see you're confused already. To Delilah, as well as the rest of us, Uppers are "the superior, rich folk," whether that be magic or not—the sort were much the same.

"Where is she now? Is she alright?" Looking around the room, I noticed that Anna was nowhere in sight but that wasn't anything new. She usually sprinted at the slightest whiff of disaster. Unfortunately, Anna was also quite accident prone.

"She's out smoking a cig," Delilah said, rolling her eyes. "I know she gets embarrassed but come on."

"Nana just gets sensitive when making mistakes," I reasoned, trying to calm the waters of our team. "You know she doesn't mean to run off. She'll likely apologize later."

"Ya-ya. I know, Sly. It's just frustrating when we always pick up after her messes."

I nodded, sympathetically. We knelt on the floor and picked up the wine glasses that had caused a minor spill. "Thank Merlin that the carpet is not white, like the last Upper party," I whispered to Delilah. I got out the cleaner and worked at the stain, which began to fade after a few seconds.

Delilah groaned quietly, shaking her head of red curls that threatened to spill out of her bun. "I still don't understand why we cannot use magic. It would be so much easier."

The stain vanished, allowing us to breath in relief. "You know why," I responded, glancing at a man waltzing by with his younger than necessary wife. The lack of dress robes and firewiskey alluded that this Upper party was a mix of Muggles and magic folk.

Delilah sighed dramatically, "Okay, so I do know!" Then she paused, brown eyes searching for anyone listening in on us before continuing. "But you have to agree that using magic would have been so much quicker."

I nodded in agreement, but we both knew the rules. We found Anna around back, near the dumpsters with a cigarette snug between her lips. Her light blue eyes appraised us, the only charismatic feature on her outlandishly blank face. The woman had always, including throughout their years at Hogwarts together, projected an unyielding mask of boredom and languid movements.

"Potter-Weasley clan," Anna sighed, flicking the ashes of her cigarette into the nearby trash. I stood a few paces away from the curl of smoke, eyeing the cancerous stick with aversion and disapproval of her lack of environmental awareness. I really should buy her some nicotine gum or something, but it's her body.

"Great," Delilah snorted while crushing the plastic water jug in her hand that she'd intended to place into recycling. "More Upper's to worry about."

"Mhmm," Anna murmured, looking as exhausted as ever. "Simon," she continued in a breath that sounded like her last. She cast a concerned gaze over to me before adding, "And Ryan." A lead weight plummeted into my stomach, but I shrugged to act like his name had no effect on me.

Delilah darted an equally concerned look over to me, her mouth creasing into a frown. "So Potter and Weasley brought Simon along?" Delilah asked, diverting the attention from me and turned back towards Anna. "Well, at least you'll get your fill of eye candy tonight, Nana. Hopefully, it makes up for the other egotistical prats in the room…"

Anna merely nodded, slowly—as if she's conserving every ounce of energy—and then extinguished her cigarette before discarding it. She nodded at the door, silently beckoning us to return to our job. Delilah squeezed my shoulder, stated firmly that I'd be on off-floor duty, and then her quick steps took her back inside. Anna paused at the door, turning slowly to glance at me with the door to the venue partially open. "Sly," she addressed me. "Okay?"

I sighed, bracing myself for the rest of the night. "Okay," I answered, following her inside. God I hoped that'd be true, I added silently in my head. Immediately, the second we entered, there was a loud crash from the far end of the party. Delilah, Anna and I froze, silently analyzing the damage.

"Not cleaning up," Anna offered up and Delilah threw her a withering expression. I grabbed the cleaner and a rag before either of them could argue, making my way across the room. I rolled my eyes, cleaning up the area quickly, and unintentionally picking up on bits of conversation.

"So do you think she'll be here tonight?" A familiar male voice asked.

"Who?" My body stiffened, mutely cursing my luck. James Potter, Fred Weasley, and Simon were in a triangle to my right. I ignored the urge to be hypervigilant of the missing member of their group.

"Our nana," Freddy commented sarcastically. "Who do you think, James? Female, blonde, leggy, out of her mind batty, and a bit of a bint? Does that ring any bells?"

"Isabelle," James replied, heaving a big sigh after downing the drink in his hand. "I don't know, why? Does it matter?"

"She treated you like rubbish, mate. And she still does, in fact." Freddie winced as he took a long gulp of his drink. "Godric this stuff is terrible. Where is firewiskey or butterbeer when you need it, eh?"

Rhetorical question, of course, I answered in my head. This whole conversation was not intended for my ears, but you'd be surprised at how willing people are to talk about things when you're invisible. Well, not literally invisible, my Ravenclaw brain corrected me but being in catering you were intended to be invisible to the guests attending an event.

"Did you see Anna, yet, Simon?" My ears perked up at the mention of my friend's name. Well, I'll be damned. The night was looking up. _Keep scrubbing_, I reminded myself.

"Shut up, Freddie." Simon's quiet voice mumbled, sounding all kinds of embarassed.

"Yeah Freddie," James teased. "You wouldn't want a concussion or anything in tomorrows practice for simply uttering Anna Greengrass' name."

"I told you that was an accident," Simon said begrudgingly.

"Whatever you say, Moony."

Simon scoffed. "James, those nicknames didn't work in school and they aren't working now."

"But you've mooned over Greengrass for ages, mate," Freddie pointed out. "So the nickname _does_ stick well to you. And I personally think I'm a Padfoot type of man, regardless of your middle name." Freddie emphasized the last bit to James Potter.

"Well I'm no Wormtail, that's for damn sure." James folded his arms in defiance. "And grandad…" There is a hint of sadness in James' tone, which caused my heart to clench. Everyone knows the Potter history, after all.

"Oh shite," Freddie cursed. "I knew she'd show up."

Curiosity got the best of me and I glanced over to the direction that Freddie was staring. Isabelle Wood was beautiful, even if she was vapid and cruel. At least that's how she'd been at Hogwarts. Her hair fell in blonde waves down her back, a red dress hugged every curve in all the right places, and her makeup was imaculate.

"James—" Fred attempted to warn him but it was too late as the woman in question joined them.

Delilah came up beside me, sensing trouble about to ensue as I felt petrified. She tugged at my arm from my space on the floor–still scrubbing–to get me away from the area, out of the attention of Isabelle and the triangle of friends.

"James," Isabelle greeted him after her heels announced her arrival. "I didn't think you'd be here."

Freddie snorted and coughed out "bullocks." Isabelle fixed him with a contemptuous glare and then turned back to James, inched closer to him. "How are you?"

"Oh come off it, Isabelle. You know how he is," Freddie said defensively. "You practically stalk the guy whenever he gets close to another female, you attention-seeking bint. You are the one who lef—"

"Freddie," James interrupted his rant. "Thats enough, please."

Isabelle, thinking she got her way, grinned triumphantly.

"What do you want, Isabelle?" The smile on her lips vanished, replaced winth a pout.

"Nothing, James," she replied coyly, which earned another snort from Freddie. "I didn't know you'd be here. Want to dance with me?"

"Why?" He sounded exhausted just asking the question.

Isabelle reached out her hand to touch his arm, her gold-tipped fingernails grazing him suggestively. "Why not? It can be like old times, J. Can't it?"

Delilah pulled on my arm, urging me away from the exchange and I started to walk away with her quietly. "Idiot," Delilah whispered and rolled her eyes. However, it seemed the whisper wasn't inaudible enough because Isabelle's eyes landed on Delilah and I. Those pretty blue eyes narrowed into slits and I knew we were screwed because we were no longer invisible to guests. Freddie, James, Simon, and Isabelle all stared at us.

"Oh how rude," Isabelle tut-tutted, analyzing our black and white work uniforms. "The help are eavesdropping on us. Don't they look familiar, though, James?" Her perfectly manicured hand lightly touched James' arm, but he was too busy staring at us curiously.

"Ainsly?"

My stomach dropped, that voice caused instant nausea and a stomach ache as it pushed into the group.

"It is you." Ryan stood there looking as fit as ever, but even though thought of being near him sickened and put me on edge. His hands shot out in attempt to touch my arm but thankfully Delilah intercepted, knocking his hand away.

I could barely stand looking at him since the last time I'd seen him… I shuddered and avoided his eyes, remembering. I'm a witch; can't I just disappear into the floor?

"Ryan," Delilah greeted in a fake excited tone. "I'm going to calmly request that you back the fuck up off of my friend, please." Then she turned to me, grabbed my arm, and gently said "let's go, Sly." Sometimes I really loved Delilah; blunt and reckless and wonderful Delilah.

I could feel his eyes burning into my back, causing my breath to hitch. I yanked myself out of Delilah's careful hands.

"I just need some air." I insisted calmly, while resisting the urge to choke on the rising bile, and rushed to the door before she could comment. My forehead kissed the brick wall as my hands desperately searched for something stable to grasp.

"Not now," my lips plead when a flash of the Forbidden Forest played behind my eyelids like the preview to a horror movie.

The night had chilled considerably in such a short amount of time. Breath escaped but refused to be inhaled again, causing my chest to ache. The world began to tip, closing in on me, and in the distance I heard the door open.

"Hey, are you alright?" A male voice asked.

"Not exactly," I choked out, falling to my knees. I couldn't breathe. My hands trembled, whether it was from the frigid air or my own thoughts I couldn't comprehend.

Someone once said that memories are just fractions of the mind. When we remember, those snippets of memories are fiddled with until we think about it in a way we feel comfortable; settling on the right way. If that is the case, memories are merely creations. And to remember...wouldn't that be to dream? While the memories themselves remain nothing more than illusions. Perhaps if I kept telling myself that piece of information, these experiences would become easier to handle.

The man knelt down next to me and placed his suit jacket around my shoulders, waiting quietly next to me. His hands grasped mine, careful and gentle.

"Okay, breathe. In. Out. In. Out," he guided me, or himself, through this dilemma. He breathed along with me, giving me a model to follow along with. "In and out, that's it."

I did as the stranger suggested, breathing deeply to compose myself before explaining my well being to the unfortunate soul having to deal with my hornets nest of a brain.

After a little longer, my eyes began to focus again and my breathing returned to normal. Thankfully, I didn't cry this time… But then my eyes met who was helping me and I jerked my hands out of his warm ones.

"James Potter?" The name hung in the silent air between us, suspended in the awkwardness of our spontaneous and unneeded reunion.

Or is this simply another fractured dream?


	2. Typical Day

I don't own Harry Potter!

So a little forewarning, Sly's character is recalling past events from her 6th Year at Hogwarts and then transitions back to present day.

**Sly's POV:**

**Hogwarts Year 6**

We had gotten to choose our beasts to care for in Advanced Care for Magical Creatures. Everyone was choosing Bowtruckles, Nifflers, and Puffskeins, which made the other students smile in affection and wonder. We were supposed to work in pairs, but Anna and Delilah were more partial to Ancient Runes. As a result, I was left awkward and alone, which was fine with me. Hagrid's eyes widened in surprise as I picked my creature: a hippogriff.

"Alright, Ainsly! We have a younger one since Buckbeak retired, but she's pretty feisty. You sure you don't want to choose another?" I shook my head quietly at his question. He weakly attempted to get me to change my mind, but his heart really wasn't in it. It wasn't a secret that Hagrid loved all beasts and creatures after all.

"Still as quiet and stubborn as ever, ain't you, Sly?" He chuckled merrily, and I shrugged in response. "Right then," Hagrid announced, noticing that I wasn't going to budge on my decision. "James, why don't you be Ainsly's partner?"

"Professor," I interrupted him from talking any further. "With all due respect, I think I would prefer to work independently."

Glancing over at Potter, he wasn't even paying attention or acting like he wasn't. His hand ran through his dark hair as he flirted with Isabelle Wood, like he didn't have a care in the world. Rich boy wonder probably didn't.

"Ainsly," Hagrid pulled me to the side, lowering his booming voice. "I would recommend working with someone, um, bigger than yourself... and James has quite the touch with creatures."

Probably because he was a rare species himself.

"I'll be fine, Hagrid," I insisted, begging him with my eyes.

"James Potter," Hagrid announced, sending me a look before turning his eyes on the boy he called. "You'll be fine. James is a fine boy. Wouldn't hurt a Bowtruckle or nothin."

He gestured James over once getting his attention. James walked over after throwing a smirk at Isabelle, who giggled ridiculously. When he walked over, I noticed that James had lipstick on his cheek. A perfect imprint of Isabelle's pouty lips.

"Everything alright, Professor?" James asked Hagrid politely. Smart, athletic, respectful to teacher's, and a member of the popular in-crowd at Hogwarts was only the beginning of describing James Potter.

"Ay, everything's fine. I was just speaking with Ainsly here, who wants to work with a hippogriff, but I'd be wanting her to have a suitable partner. What do you think, eh?"

"Sure," James shrugged. "Hippogriffs are neat to work with."

"Great," Hagrid exclaimed and clapped both of us on the shoulder, jolting our bodies closer to one another. "I'll leave you's to it then."

Then Hagrid turned his attention to Freddie Weasley, who's Niffler was trying to steal coins out of another girl's bag.

"I'll just have to tell Isabelle that I got paired with you," James commented, not bothering to look at me. My eyes tried, and failed, to keep myself from staring at the lipstick mark on his cheek. It was a perfect imprint of lips.

"Don't bother," I replied, shifting my gaze to a haughty Isabelle that was glaring at me. "I told Hagrid I can do it independently."

I kicked at some of the dirt at my feet so that I had something to do with myself.

"No," he said absentmindedly. "We can do the project together. Tonight? Before dinner time; how about at 5pm?"

My eyes widened in surprise at how easygoing and cordial he was being. My heart lightened at the idea that maybe he wasn't as egotistical as I originally thought.

"Um, James," I offered, so quietly that I thought he might not hear me. However, his dark eyes shifted my way, waiting for me to continue.

He smirked curiously at my nervousness, shattering my opinion of change in character.

"You have some lipstick on your cheek," I deadpanned, tapping at the side of my cheek. "About here."

My words caused the smirk to vanish from his handsome face. His cheeks faintly reddened, as his hand swiped at the mark urgently.

"Thanks," he mumbled and then walked over to where Isabelle was without so much as a backwards glance. Perhaps I had injured his pride then and allowed the misfortune to churn.

James never showed up that night for our project, leaving me alone to stare at the hippogriff. I started forming a bond with her, at least, after the formalities of bowing and a giving her a few dead ferrets (wondrously delicious gift from Hagrid). And that was just fine with me, or at least that's what I colluded myself into believing. I waited for hours, almost missing dinner because I thought James might have gotten caught up in something.

When I entered the Great Hall, I received my answer as I examined the Gryffindor table. James Potter sat at the table with Isabelle Wood practically in his lap, laughing at something that Freddie Weasley had said. He was dressed in Gryffindor Quidditch gear, probably finding the aspect of me waiting for him hilarious. I felt extremely stupid in that moment, pitying myself for my foolishness. Anna and Delilah had already left to get books from the library, so I sat at the Ravenclaw table alone and picked at my food.

I sighed, again, trying to pull myself out of wallowing in self-pity. Teasing and bullying weren't a new experience, in fact it was a rarity for me _not_ to have a run-in with someone. Suddenly, any bit of appetite that I had left me, and I pushed my plate away. As I pushed away from the table, a few boys from the table beside mine rammed into my shoulder and caused my elbow to collide with my glass of apple juice. the cotents of the clear glass toppled and spilled onto the table.

"Watch it, you American. Clumsy bunch of idiots, you lot."

As the lot passed by, I kept my head down and murmured a numb apology as I cleaned up the table with my wand.

Hitting my limit for the day, I glanced over one more time at the Gryffindor table, picking up my bag with the intention of leaving. James eyes suddenly met my own, his brow creased, and then there was a spark of recognition on his face. It could have been my imagination, but it almost looked like he was apologetic. I fixed him with a glare and then left the hall, feeling a heavy heart within my chest.

It was not be unlikely that I'd be the butt of another cruel joke. It would simply be another typical day.

**Present day** (One year Post-Hogwarts Graduation)

"I-I have to get back to work," I stuttered, rising quickly to my feet.

"Hey, wait a second. Wait—" His hand gently grasped my elbow, stopping me. "Ains—er, I mean, you look familiar. What's your name?"

I stared at him, blinking in disbelief at his words. Unbelievable, this man is beyond help.

I mean we had worked together in school and had _interacted_ (if that's what we wanted to call it) quite a bit. And I didn't appear that different from my days at Hogwarts. Not to mention the thing with Ryan... I breathed away that memory. I mean Hogwarts was over, so I didn't have to deal with anyone's crap anymore. I wasn't forced to sit in a classroom with Ryan, or any of these people, and that included James Potter.

It took me a while to learn not to care what others thought of me. For instance, while at Hogwarts, bullies confused me. Isabelle Wood, and girls just like her, were ruthless and mean. Girls that were charismatic enough to get practically the whole House involved in the fun of torturing someone. It's hard to feel empathetic with someone who treats you like dirt, no better than to be walked on.

"Ainsly," I said, turning my eyes to the sky above. The stars were out, glowing softly in the moonlight. I'd grown accustomed to counting them at night when I could not sleep.

I turned back to James, who furrowed his brow. I could swear his face fell while he processed my name, though I suppose that could just be my imagination.

"Greengrass' friend from Ravenclaw?" I nodded, mentally rolling my eyes for him only recognizing me as that. He seemed to pale a bit at the knowledge, shuffling his feet nervously. "You know, we are having a party tomorrow night. You could bring Greengrass... Simon would probably have a heart attack. He's fancied her for awhile now. Or bring anyone else you'd like..."

I was skeptical and scared. What if this was just another twisted ploy for his friends to humiliate me? Again. And I didn't even want to think about putting Anna at risk of humiliation, either.

"I don't think so," I finally answered with a neutral expression.

"What? Why not?" He sounded stunned. I wondered if anyone had ever refused or rejected him. Though, I know I did. Did he understand or recognize the feeling?

"Probably not a good idea," I explained and shrugged my shoulders.

"What makes you say that?"

My response was to give him a pointed, I'm-not-stupid look.

"Okay, so you have formulated some opinions about me. That much is clear. A lot of which are probably based on horrible rumors, like me being a cocky player. Or whatever the tabloids are smearing about me these days." I blinked at him, dumbfounded. Did he really not get it?

This was all a load of rubbish for me, at least, but if I thought of Anna and what I overheard about Simon... Could my minor discomfort compare to my best friend's happiness? And if he ended up having bad intentions, then I'd just hex him.

"Who'd be there?" I gave a labored sigh, trying to remain optimistic for my friend's sake.

"Um, just some people from the Falcon's and a few others."

"Ryan?" I forced myself to say it, pushing down the nausea.

Hazel eyes studied me, brow creasing in confusion as he picked up on my obvious discomfort. He had to know that Ryan made me uncomfortable, regardless of knowing the circumstances to why.

"No," he said softly, shaking his head. "He's going to be out of town after today."

I sighed in relief, causing another wave of confusion to show up on James' face.

"Maybe," I shrugged. "We don't know our schedule for work yet." That was a partial lie because we didn't work tomorrow night, instead we had a earlier brunch to serve at.

"Okay, that's fine." James nodded his head encouragingly. "I'll send an owl with the details to where and the time, eh?"

I nodded my head silently, and then remembered his jacket around my shoulders. James shook his head when I tried to shake it off and give it back to him. "Keep it for now," he said in a soft voice. "Please."

I raised an eyebrow at him, confused by his efforts at kindness. "Why are you doing this, James?"

"What do you mean?"

"This," I replied, gesturing between us. "Call it kindness, or bullcrap, or whatever. Why are you doing this?"

He stared at me warily, not responding.

"We worked together multiple times in classes, James, and all you ever did was mess with me. You didn't give a damn."

"That is not true," he introjected, taking a fierce step forward to emphasize his point. "I did—"

I raised an eyebrow, cocking my head to the side at his actions. If I didn't know any better, I'd think that he was getting flustered, stomping his foot to heed my attention. I frowned, pondering that thought. Bullies always had confused me, though James Potter had never damaged any part of me, excluding my past naive, teenage feelings.

He had even intervened a few times to help me, only to scratch away my hopes and expectations in the long run.

I sighed, pushing away the dark strands of hair that fell into my line of sight. "Whatever James," I said tiredly. "I have to get back to work."

"I hope to see you at the party, Ainsly." James' words were quiet, hopeful and, above all, confusing.

"See you around, James." And then I closed the door, not bothering to look back at James' face.

My heart clenched, feeling as heavy as those days in Sixth year. For one can forgive, but they never truly forget. At least I couldn't at the moment, I thought bitterly.

I stayed in the kitchen the rest of the night, flipping the meatballs and skewering them on fancy platters for endless appetizers. It's an unspoken rule in the catering business that everyone loves meatballs. So by the end of the night, when all the guests have dwindled and we are packing up our supplies, I popped a meatball into my mouth. With a sigh, I barely tasted it.

But, in a stunned silence, I noticed that I'd left the weight of James Potter's jacket on my shoulders the whole night. Calmly wrapped around me like an embrace from a distant, forgotten lover. The comfort coursed through me, and for some reason I felt tears prick my eyes as I looked down.

**XXX**

**A/N:**

So what team do you think James Potter would fit most on in professional Quidditch? I was thinking Puddlemere United for this one.

Let me know what you think so far!

-Jinx


	3. Linger

Thank you to all that reviewed! I don't own Harry Potter!

**Sly's POV: Hogwarts Year 6**

The day following the no show incident, I sat at breakfast extra early with a cup of tea warming my hands. My eyes were so immersed in the international disputes going on between Europe and America magic folk, as stated in the Daily Prophet, that I didn't notice the silent approach of a person. I remained oblivious until they pointedly coughed, causing me to jump and spill some tea on my skirt.

One minute you're reading about America trying to calm their crazed Muggle president's ideals, the next you're having a heart attack. Okay, my Ravenclaw brain annoyingly corrected, that was a tad overdramatic. Instead, I tried to silently slow my heart rate as I stared begrudgingly at a frowning James Potter.

Grabbing a napkin, I dabbed at the small wet spot that had made its home on my skirt. I'd probably smell like jasmine and honey the rest of the day.

Well, at least it's a tranquil scent.

"Look," he started off, pausing to bite his lip before choosing the next words carefully. Oh boy, here we go...

I held up my hand to prevent him from continuing this nonsense. "Save it," I said quietly, and then wiped up any remaining spilled tea with another napkin.

Ignore him. Just ignore him and the issue will go away.

Returning my attention to the section of the Daily Prophet, I anticipated that he'd just walk away. Instead, I sensed someone sit to my right and clatter a plate and silverware towards themselves.

My eyes squinted at James, wondering what he was playing at but I remained silent. I coughed awkwardly and squirmed in discomfort as he piled up eggs, toast, and blood sausages onto his plate.

"Gross," I muttered at his last choice of food for breakfast. And are you really going to eat all that?

My comment seemed to amuse him, causing him to grin widely at me and wave a piece of the sausage in my face. I slid back, dodging the mocking fork in front of me. There was no smile on my face as I watched him, clearly unamused by his antics.

He seemed to sense my lack of appreciation and popped the sausage in his mouth. "Have you ever even tried it?"

I shook my head, a look of aversion on my face.

"Then how do you know you don't like it?" My only response was to take a bite of the toast in front of me, ignoring his attempt at taunting me.

"You don't talk much, do you?" His eyes were lit with humor.

I shrugged in response, which made him laugh again.

"Are you lost?" Delilah's voice interrupted as she sat down in front of me. It would have been quite rude if it were directed at me, or if she hadn't dragged the predicament out of me last night after I returned from the Great Hall. Delilah was always fiercely protective of Anna and I, who tended to bury our feelings rather than address them head on.

James just stared at her, his mouth slightly agape. Delilah arched her eyebrows, waiting for James to talk or scurry away. "Well?"

"I-um," James gulped. He got up from his spot next to me, sending me a pleading look. "I'll see you tonight? I'll come see our hippogriff after Quidditch practice, so it'll be at about 6pm."

I shrugged, non-committing. Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me, and all that jazz.

"I'm going this afternoon," I said into my cup of tea, swirling my words into the steam with a spoon. "You can always just work with Isabelle. I told you before that I'd prefer independent work anyways."

I shrugged in explanation rather than meet his gaze.

"I hope you show up," James said quietly and rapped his knuckles on the table twice. He looked at Delilah and Anna with a small smile. "Ladies, always a pleasure."

And then he walked away, leaving me feeling ridiculously confused. Anna scoffed softly at his words and retreating back. Meanwhile, Delilah just muttered, "bloody prat" under her breath.

When I was certain he was gone, I let my head thud softly into the wooden table. Well, that was mentally exhausting.

I felt Anna pat my head softly, which was a sympathetic gesture on her part. I smiled gratefully at her and then let my forehead rest on the table once again.

"So what did he want?" Delilah never was one to beat around the bush. I glared at her, as if she didn't know the answer. Seriously.

I grunted, unhelpfully, breathing into the wood that smelled like a mixture of cleaner and pancakes. Strange, I didn't remember having pancakes recently. I felt a nudge at my arm, and turned my face to peer at Delilah.

"You look strange upside down," I commented. She rolled her eyes at me, still waiting for my answer to her question.

"Fine," I answered. "It sounded like he was going to apologize before you both showed up. That and he might have been educating me on blood sausage," I reasoned with a sigh of exasperation. "I'm not entirely certain which was more important to him, honestly."

"And you told him to shove it?" Delilah narrowed her eyes at me, knowing fully well that I did no such thing.

"Nuh-uh," Anna murmured, blowing a strand of blonde hair out of her face.

Though, if I'm being honest, it probably would have been more effective if it wasn't at the effort level of rousing a lazy butterfly. That strand of blonde hair had to have been the bane of her existence since we met in first year, and still it was going nowhere. I got her barrettes for Christmas one year, but I think she intentionally lost them. They were emerald with floating glitter, which reminded me of grass. Greengrass. I let out a soft chuckle at the memory.

"If he wasn't such a prat he'd be so bloody fit," Delilah pointed out. "Even by American standards." She grinned teasingly at me.

"I take offense to that," I dully replied, not looking up from reading the Daily Prophet again. Mom and I had escaped to Ireland from America just before I started Hogwarts, which was quite taxing because my mother was a Muggle and had no idea of the magic world. My dad was a Muggle, too, and still lives in America but that situation is...complicated. I refused to be too sad about it anymore, though.

Later in the day, I walked the hippogriff, who I named Epona (because I'm a dork), out into the clearing.

Much to my surprise, James showed up during the early afternoon. He was sweaty from running down and wiped his forehead with the bottom of his t-shirt. A clear view of his stomach was shown for a long moment, as if my brain started processing things in slow motion.

I felt like I wanted to fall headfirst into the mud below me, but I settled for averting my gaze from his toned body. It was like an artist had painted his abs on, they were so bloody perfect. It felt like my heart wanted to burst into a thousand tiny pieces.

He coughed, directing my attention to his eyes and flashed me a smirk. "See something you like?"

He had noticed my staring... Well, that was a wake up call of you ever needed one. Bloody prat.

I pointedly ignored him and walked to the other side of the barn. He began whistling after about five minutes, while I shuffled through the some old ropes and equipment. There was a sketchy hook in there that made my arms break out in goosebumps. What was this even used for?

"So are you just not going to talk to me," James stated quietly, making me jump. Wrapped up in my head and own little world, I'd forgotten he was even there. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's alright," I tried but my voice came out raspy from disuse. I cleared my throat before continuing. "I'm alright, thanks."

A pregnant silence filled the air, again.

"Sooo," James began saying and I realized that he was uncomfortable with silence. It was an interesting concept when my day was so filled with it. He coughed, awkwardly, and squirmed. "Come on."

I stared at him, the corners for my mouth turning up. "Someone's uncomfortable with silence, huh?"

I grabbed one of the ropes and walked out intending to work some more with Epona. From behind me, I heard James quickly follow.

"Silence doesn't bother me so much," James defended. I snorted, unladylike but I couldn't help it.

"What? It doesn't. I'm being serious. And you know, my middle nam-"

I held up my hand to stop him from continuing that awful joke and rolled my eyes. "I know. It's your middle name."

"Stalking me, are you?" His tone was teasing. And arrogant.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, again, and just sighed. I didn't have to check behind me to see the grin on his handsome face, I could practically feel it. Or would that be sense it? Huh.

"You have to think about it?"

I stopped suddenly, causing him to knock into my back. "Huh?"

I was jolted forward, nearly loosing my balance if it hadn't been for James' quick reflexes grabbing around my waist. Otherwise, I'd probably have ended up in the mud on my butt.

James cocked is head to the side, eyes sparkling with humor and mischief.

"Careful there," he said softly, and I felt his hands settle on my hips.

I stared blankly back at him, noticing that in the light he had some green in his hazel eyes. We blinked at each other for a good minute or so, until I coughed and moved away from him.

His hands thumped softly against his uniform. "You okay?"

For some reason his words made me pause longer than usual, making me linger on the deeper meaning. Sometimes I wished my brain would shut up.

"What's my name, James?" I narrowed my eyes, slightly suspicious.

"Um..." His voice trailed, searching for an excuse or a joke, or anything really, but the damage was done.

How many classes had we been in together? How many times had Hagrid said my name just days previous? I backed away from him.

"Come on...don't be like that."

"I'm not," I said simply, shrugging away any frustration that welled up inside me. That's when I decided to walk away though, after placing Epona's rope in James Potter's hands. I wasn't being any certain way, it was just the way that I was. Invisible. I'd always been just me.

"I'll take tomorrow's shift while your at practice," I spoke quietly. "You can finish up with her today."

Then I walked away from the clearing, far from the prying and forgetting eyes of James Potter. When I finally made it back to the castle, I walked into the first empty broom closet that I could find and sat in the dark for a long while.

Invisible or almost like a ghost, hmm?

**Present day (One year post-Hogwarts)**

I woke up mid-scream, again, with tears in my eyes and a stomach full of nausea. Anna was a light sleeper so she was always there beside me.

"Shush," she hushed breathlessly. She ran her hands down my arms, which had made a fortress around my head to ward off my nightmare.

"No here, Sly. Safe." Her words were soothing, even though she'd said the same thing after waking me up after each time. Afterwards, she walked out of the room and then pressed a cup of tea in my hands, like always. It seemed to become our nightly routine. She'd mixed it with a Dreamless Drought to soothe me back to safe sleep, a comforting numbness settling in my limbs.

My eyes dropped as I watched Anna pause in the doorway.

"Tomorrow," she sighed with a forced purpose. "Schedule."

"I'll schedule," I resigned to the help that I obviously needed. I'd schedule an appointment to see a therapist within the next few weeks. My thoughts began to fragment as the drought overtook me, allowing me those hours of blissful, dreamless sleep.

As usual, we worked our brunch shift in the morning and then packed up to go home. To be honest, James' words had been forgotten until an owl came crashing into our open window.

It occurred in the kitchen and scared Anna half to death. She'd been making biscuits, or cookies, when the bird made its introduction. I don't think I had ever heard Anna shriek in that manner before, though we rarely got our owl post sent here because we live in a predominantly Muggle neighborhood.

Anyways, there were biscuits everywhere, to which Delilah demanded the five second rule apply. I, for one, am quite partial to biscuits so I wholeheartedly agreed with Delilah. Though, I suppose I changed my tune with her after she noticed who the owl was from.

"James Bloody Potter." I cringed at the tone of her voice. It was so icy. I really didn't want to be in the middle of it.

After much preparation and attempts to calm down an irate Delilah, we decided to go to James' party. "What does he want?"

I shrugged and then paused, finding the question itself quite puzzling. What did he want? I was still wondering about that when we walked up the stairs to the location of the party. We walked into the flat, which truthfully had a kitchen bigger than our whole apartment. It really just got more awkward from there on.

Simon took one look at Anna and his eyes bugged out, which I suppose was a good sigh. I'd tied her blonde hair in a braided crown around her head, which Delilah swore it made her appear regal yet chic. I just thought she was beautiful. I hoped that Simon would be good to her, and with a squeeze of her shoulder I excused myself from the two of them. They seemed to be having a private conversation with their eyes anyways.

Finding the kitchen, a guy in Falmouth Falcon's attire filled me a glass of wine. It was still odd to be surrounded by two different teams that had fought so brutally against each other, but I suppose it helped build a sense of community in the Quidditch world. I certainly never imagined the Puddlemere United and Falmouth Falcons could be in the same room together without blood being shed or words being thrown around. Yet, here we were.

My lips had been savoring a sip of red wine, in an effort to do something with my hands, when I walked out onto the balcony. I set my wine glass down, prepared to just stare out at the horizon for the rest of the night. Hopefully, avoiding a certain someone. That's when my eyes found the distant form of James Potter, leaning casually against the balcony wall talking to Fred Weasley.

Attempting to get away from James' line of sight, I backpedal quickly and spun around only to run straight into the sliding glass door. In my hurry I hadn't noticed that it closed, so I ran into it head first. Everyone was silent for one awkward moment before Fred Weasley broke it.

"Well, that's quite an entrance. I don't know how I never thought of that." Freddy Weasley's voice had never been non-teasing, not in my presence at least. And I wanted no part of it.

Overall, this was a terrible start and not one of my proudest moments. Not in the slightest.

I tried to get up but my head felt dizzy, the effect causing me to sway and drop down to my knees. Hopefully, I was not concussed. My fingers ran over my face, praying for a lack of bump development and I breathed a sigh of relief. No bump yet.

"Hey there," a familiar voice said into my ear. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to avoid me."

My blurry vision finally focused, greeting me with a grinning James Potter.

He helped me up, gently steering me to the side of the balcony. "Either that or you fancied our sliding glass door."

He appeared to be holding back a laugh, which was not very nice if you asked me. Though it wasn't like James Potter had been awarded kindness king during our time at Hogwarts. I shook him off, forcing myself to walk on my own and instantly regretted it when I became dizzy. I used the wall of the balcony to balance myself, as I sat down in a chair.

Furrowing his brow in concern, James leaned forward, crouching down low in front of me, and pushed my hair away from my face. It caused my heart to do summersaults. This was stupid. I couldn't form a crush on this guy, it would be the epitome of pathetic.

So I did the only thing I could think of: I thrusted his jacket towards him eagerly, which was perhaps too eagerly because I awkwardly throat punched him with my clenched fists. Not on purpose, of course. I'm not an animal.

And that marked the day that I accidentally made James Potter go into a choking fit. After a moment of stunned silence, with me just blinking at him mortified, he started laughing. "Godric, its like that time in sixth year when I found you locked in the supply closet. I helped let you out because you didn't have your wand and you elbowed me in the face," James recalled, groaning as he massaged his throat.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, embarrassed. I remembered the memory he mentioned, too, and my face reddened. I had a habit of sitting in closets whenever I was having a rough day, it helped me think. However, what was unhelpful was closets that locked as soon as you shut them, as well as not carrying your wand with you. No joke. "And that was an accident."

"And this wasn't?" He was continuing to tease me, but it wasn't in a cruel way.

I rubbed the side of my head, sensing a tiny headache rooting its way behind my right eye. "They both were accidents," I mumbled, avoiding his prying eyes.

"I know, Ainsly." When he said my name. Distracted by my growing headache again, I rubbed at my temple. The action caused James to frown, ask me if my head hurt, and then he disappeared through the sliding glass door. I must have become pretty uninteresting for him just to walk away without comment. Oh well.

I'd just risen to my feet to find Delilah or check up on Anna when James returned with a potion in his hands. He was walking carefully in a slow shuffle with his eyes fixed on the vial, as if he was trying hard not to spill it. It was really endearing to watch.

When he reached me, I looked at the potion skeptically. "What?" Then space between his eyebrows was creased in confusion. I immediately squished the urge I had to rub it away. "I know potions can taste pretty disgusting, but I was hoping this would help your head."

I continued to stare at him, incredulous at his words.

"Okay," I said uneasily, taking the vial from him. I peered into it and expressed relief that it was just a Pepperup Potion. Heaving a sigh, I gulped it down and handed it back to him. "Thank you."

He didn't answer right away, instead he appeared to be deep in thought. "Did you think I was going to drug or poison you just now?"

I shrugged again, which appeared to make him upset. He ran his hand through his dark hair, ruffling it in frustration.

"I would never drug you, and don't even get me started on poisoning. Do you really have that little of faith in me?" He was clearly offended by me questioning his intentions.

"I took the potion," I pointed out.

"After analyzing it pretty intensely," he retorted bitterly.

"And you don't understand," I argued, calmly. I never took vials of potion without looking at them, that's how mistakes happen. "I don't take potions just willy-nilly. That's how messed up things happen."

"What?" His eyes looked at me, concerned and shocked. "Did someone...?" His eyes flashed angrily. I glanced away, refusing to hash out that conversation with him. Though, I thought he would have known already. It was his friend after all...

"Can we talk about something else," I demanded more than asked. "Please." I beg of you, I added silently in my head.

"Of course," he said, still uneasy and cleared his throat. "I'm glad you ended up coming. Even though the Falcons can be a rowdy bunch of sods."

"It was surprising to see you guys all chummy after yesterday's game."

"Bloody fantastic, if you ask me. Especially since we won." He took a drink from his glass, which looked like butterbeer. I nodded politely, humming in praise and took a sip of wine. It was a miracle that I had not spilled it previously. Come to think of it, should I be drinking at all since I drank a potion. I tried to recall if the effects were similar to Muggle prescriptions.

"I think I lost you again," James explained with a small chuckle. "I'd forgotten how...pensive you are."

"Just thinking," I muttered distractingly.

James let out a bark of laughter.

"Clearly." It wasn't said in a rude or mean way but with a slight undertone of affection, which was equally puzzling.

My mind tumbled back to pondering the effects of alcohol with Muggle medication vs Magical medicine. I mentioned as much to James, who listened attentively to my reasoning.

"Yeah but I'd think that magic folk bypass all of that," James commented.

"Yeah, but we also have the same blood-brain barrier as Muggles so the effects of alcohol interacting with drugs or potions would be similar, right?"

"Isn't there alcohol in potions?" James asked, frowning down at the vial he'd set down on the table next to us.

I nodded my head, agreeing with him. "Alcohol is used medicinally in potions as part of the Pepperup Potion."

"Merlin, I feel like I'm back at Hogwarts. This is what I get for talking with a Ravenclaw," he teased, taking another drink of his butterbeer.

I shrugged my shoulders and looked away, a blush heating up my cheeks. Suddenly, I felt fingertips under my chin urging my eyes upwards and saw James smiling down at me. "It's definitely not a bad thing, though. I like to think about more than just Quidditch sometimes."

He stared at my face for a bit, biting his lip slightly as his gaze snagged on my lips.

Later in the night, Freddie came to join us with another team member, who I learned was named Caleb. He was one of Puddlemere United's beaters. James kept making eye contact with me, trying to keep me looped in the conversation. It was actually really...sweet and unexpected.

James and I started discussing the Niffler problem that occurred at the Quidditch Pitch recently.

Apparently one tried to nick the golden snitch before the game.

"Nifflers are tricky," I commented. I was working at becoming a Beastologist, and we'd had to try and get the Niffler situation under control. I explained as much to James about it.

"You always did have a knack for creatures," James recalled with a smile. "I'm glad to hear you're still working with them."

Freddie silently watched me, listening to our conversation while drinking firewhiskey straight from the bottle.

"So Ainsly, you look different from Hogwarts." He speculated with a small smile, then took another extra long drink.

"Yep. I grew breasts," I said flatly. "Such an accomplishment."

Freddie choked on his drink, coughing and laughing at the same time. I didn't think that was possible, but leave it to Fred Weasley to keep me guessing.

James casually placed his arm over the back of my chair as he leaned in to laugh at Freddie's sad attempts at cleaning up the firewhiskey that had spilled around him. I ignored the behavior, until his fingertips began to play with meshy material of my right sleeve.

Oh, calm down, it was only at the shoulder and no where of "scandalous interest," as Delilah would put it. Anyways, I raised an eyebrow at him and he just returned my look with a sweet smile.

"You know, we have a Dragonologist in the family. My uncle Charlie," he explained with that easy smile. "He'd probably love to meet you. You could pick his brain for a bit, if you wanted. Though you don't have to, of course... I just thought that you might. Yeah?" I stared at him as he babbled, like I was trying to solve a Rubik's cube.

"Um, okay." It would be a neat experience, though I'm still pretty skeptical. I'd be an idiot if I wasn't.

"Really?" Yeah, I couldn't believe what I was agreeing to either, buddy.

James smiled, a magnetic kind of smile that made the corners of your lips perk upwards. That smile transformed his whole face, and caused my stomach to flip.

"Great, um, let's do this!" He laughed, raising a hand to give me a high five. My goodness, it just dawned on me that I not only made a deal with a jock, but also an Upper jock.

Hopefully I won't regret this.

**XXX**

**A/N:**

So what does everyone think so far?

Is there any more interactions that you'd like to see more of?

Feel free to review or PM!


	4. My Daisy

I don't own Harry Potter, Jane Austin, or Emily Dickinson!

**XXX**

_The daisy follows soft the sun,_

_And when his golden walk is done,_

_Sits shyly at his feet._

_He, waking, finds the flower near._

_"Wherefore, marauder, art thou here?"_

_"Because, sir, love is sweet!"_

-by Emily Dickinson

**Hogwarts Year Six**

**Sly's POV:**

I received a letter today; it happened while I was smoothing down Epona's feathers and an owl dropped the letter at my feet. I never received post, unless you counted the Daily Prophet, so it made me curious. So I opened it.

Dear Girl with a Flower in Her Hair...

I stopped reading and glanced around me, touching the asphodel that I'd placed in my hair during a morning exploration. I'd found a unicorn in the Forbidden Forest, which allowed me to give it an apple after I bowed in respect. It was beautiful with its silverish-white coat. It almost let me stroke its side when I noticed a little golden foal poke it's head out from a bush. It was a spectacular sight to see and I smiled, unsurprised at them trotting away. The small family, reminding me of my mother and I, left me standing in the meadow surrounded by thousands of wild flowers.

After I'd left the Forbidden Forest, the only other place I'd gone was the library and then I went to see Epona. How strange. I looked back down at the letter in my hands, wondering who it could be from.

_Dear Girl with a Flower in Her Hair,_

_Thinking of you today I mixed morning glory and rosemary in potions class. Our professor was less than pleased because that wasn't one of the ingredients for Drought of the Living Dead. Truth is... It might seem strange but I've noticed you for quite some time now. I just always seem to get tongue-tied around you. Did you ever realize that your eyes resemble sea glass? That sounded so terribly cliche, didn't it? But it's the truth, I promise. I've noticed them change, especially when you're thinking really hard about something or when you wear the color green. I have often wondered what your favorite color is; would you tell me? What are your favorite classes and teachers? My favorites are Advanced Potions and Advanced Care of Magical Creatures, though I must admit that it has to do with getting to see you, as well as enjoyment of the classes. Let's see... I am also partial to the color brown, which I suppose could be a rather boring color but it's warm. It reminds me of my Nan's house when the logs are burning in the fireplace. Anyways, I won't keep you any longer. You probably have places to go and things to think about._

_Hopefully awaiting your reply._

_Truly,_

_Your Daisy_

I folded the parchment up and slid it into my bag, attempting to decipher who it could be from. I couldn't recall any of the faces I'd passed in the library this morning, but the letter made me smile. After thinking it over for a few minutes, I pulled out a piece of parchment and began writing back.

After my classes that day, I went to send the letter. I was at the owlery when I saw Ryan, Fred and James walking down the stairs and laughing. Apparently, an owl had pooped on Freddie's shoulder.

"I'm telling you, it's supposed to be good luck," Freddie insisted, waving his arms around. James just shook his head, took out his wand, and then he vanished the excrement from his cousin's shoulder.

Ryan laughed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah right, Freddie. But hey, maybe we could sell that rubbish to the Puffs before our next game. Wouldn't that be a laugh?"

Ryan was your classic handsome, but he was no where near as devastating as James Potter or even Fred Weasley. He had short, cropped light brown hair and blue eyes with a fit body that was lean, as opposed to the broadness of James and Freddie.

Huh. Must be a Wotter gene.

I heard the three argue with their voices getting closer, as I pondered walking into the Forbidden Forest once more. Maybe I'd see the foal again, and this time I had my sketchbook with me so I could capture the moment more clearly. I decided to give it another go before dinner time when my thoughts were interrupted.

"Nice flower," Freddie commented. My face ignited and I glanced away, pretending I had not heard him.

Ryan started laughing obnoxiously, imitating Freddie. The strange thing is that when Freddie made the comment it had not sounded malicious. It sounded merely like an observation. Maybe it was though... I sighed in relief when I was out of their sight but that didn't stop me from pausing my steps when they continued.

"What is she five-years-old or something?" Ryan's tone was just as mocking as when he'd imitated Freddie. "Maybe she is with that rack on her."

They all laughed at that one and I looked up at the sky to keep their words from bothering me.

"Who even is she?" I think that insult hurt the most and I hadn't even recognized who said it. I ran to the Forbidden Forest, instead of following through on my urge to sit in a closet to be alone. It was disappointing to realize that a description of the flower in my hair had changed so dramatically since it made my heart soar this morning.

I pulled the asphodel out from my hair, and bitterly tossed it aside.

Days followed and the letters kept coming, filled with gentle words and kindness. The mysterious "Daisy" had started each letter with a description of me that day. Dear Girl with the Flower in Her Hair, Dear Girl with the Silly Laugh, Dear Girl with the Book Always in Her Hand...

It was by the third letter that Delilah found out. Anna, the perceptive little minx, found out by the second. Anna had merely smiled and said, "Mhmm," when I tried to make up an excuse.

Delilah, on the other hand, dramatized it. She peered over my shoulder like the nosy little thing she is and began crying out, "In vain I have..."

She stared around the room, searching the air for the Jane Austen quote, until Anna rolled her eyes and filled in "struggled."

"Struggled!" Delilah announced and flopped on my bed. "In vain I have struggled."

I laughed with a blush creeping up my cheeks.

"This is so romantic! And you have know idea who it could be from?"

Delilah was practically jumping on the bed at this point, homework long forgotten.

I just shook my head, a small smile on my face as the butterflies fluttered around in my stomach.

There was a quick tap on the window and I saw the owl that brought my letters. Delilah squealed and pushed me out of my bed. "Open it; open it," she insisted.

After getting the letter from the owl, I fed him a one of the treats I had. I glanced at Anna shyly, before letting the owl fly back out the window. With a smile, she said "Leave her," to Delilah and I rushed out of the dorm to read it privately.

On my was out of the dorm entrance, I began opening the letter. I was not paying attention to my surroundings as I read the first sentence.

"_Dear Girl with a Beautiful, Gentle Touch,_

_I apologize if that sounded at all creepy, but you are so calm and confident when working with creatures. It was really difficult to stop smiling, even when-"_

And then I ran straight into someone.

I fell back on my butt painfully, while my belongings scattered down the hall.

"Oh my god, walk much? Watch where you are going, you freak!" Isabelle Wood stared at me through narrowed eyes, while her league of mean girls laughed.

"Really, Isabelle?" I kept my eyes on the floor as I heard someone approach. It hurt my heart that that voice was so easily recognized. "Don't you have something better to do?"

"Come on, James," Isabelle whined. "She's hardly worth worrying over.

She wasn't even watching where she was going and now I feel all icky after she touched me."

I heard her cackle with her friends and leave, assuming that she'd taken Potter with her. Someone kicked some of my stuff down the hall as they passed me by. Great.

With a sigh, I collected the various items that had escaped from my bag.

"Oh no," I whispered, searching around for my letter.

"You dropped this," James unexpectedly said above me, causing me to jump. He held the letter outstretched towards me in his hand. I grabbed it quickly, hoping he didn't see the writing, and tucked it into my bag.

"Oh, this too.." he trailed off and bent forward a few feet away, where my sketchbook was flipped open to a random page. "This is..."

"Stupid, I know," was my rushed comment as I tried to grab it from him.

"No, these are amazing," James said looking down at the picture of the unicorn foal that I'd drawn.

The skepticism must have shown on my face, though it wasn't like I was trying to hide it.

"Really, I mean it." He stared at me so intensely, a blush creeped up my cheeks.

"Thank you," I muttered and shrugged my shoulders.

When he passed the sketchbook back to me, his hand touched mine. I had every intention to walk away and find somewhere private to read my letter.

"Ainsly?"

My heart beat stuttered and then ramped up again. He had my attention now.

Turning slowly, I met his eyes and raised my eyebrows at him, not pretending to be unsurprised. "But people—your friends mostly—call you Sly."

I nodded with a smile.

**Present day (One Year Post-Hogwarts)**

We were down a roast. Now, it might not seem like such a big deal to be missing such an ingredient but it so was. These people were going to be expecting a main course soon. They'd only take to so much meatballs, crab cake, shrimp, and stuffed mushrooms. Then there was the bacon wrapped goat cheese strawberry bites, which were as horrendous as they sounded. A new feature on our menu. Don't ask.

"Alright, Sly. Go to the store and see if you can get us a roast." Delilah practically pushed me out the door, while Anna threw me my wand.

I ran to the store, chest heaving as I ordered and then I leaned against the counter.

"Wow, you're really out of breath." A voice observed.

I turned, eyes widening as I saw James waiting in between the potatoes and avocados. What a peculiar sight. Would he go for the spuds or did he have a taste for guacamole?

"Why didn't you just Apparate?" I glanced around us after he said it, concerned at the fact that this was a Muggle supermarket.

"Muggles," I whispered as a warning and he just awarded me a smile. "Besides...I don't have my license."

"You don't?" He sounded shocked and I just shrugged. "Why not?"

"Couldn't afford it when I was in school," I responded with another shrug.

"You do that a lot, you know." I raised an eyebrow at him. "You shrug a lot. It's like you sell yourself short or something."

"I don't," I mumbled at the floor.

There just wasn't all that much to sell, and not anything that I wanted to. I was through trying to change for people.

"I hope not," James said nudging me with his shoulder. "You're pretty great." I blushed.

"What are you here for?" I glanced at James, honestly curious for the true answer.

"Freddie ate us out of just about everything. The man's a black hole, it never stops." I laughed and his grin widened. "What are you here for?"

"A roast beef," I said, just as my order popped up. I thanked the man behind the counter, paid, and was surprised to find James waiting for me.

"Hungry tonight?"

I sent him a blank stare, but the corner of my mouth perked upwards. "No, someone forgot the entree to a wedding that we are working right now." I stared down at my watch and cursed. "I got to run. I hope they still have shrimp and haven't resorted to the bacon wrapped strawberry cheese balls."

James raised his eyebrows at me in disbelief. "Bacon wrapped strawber-"

I held up a hand, interrupting him. "Don't ask. It wasn't my idea."

"Merlin, Delilah?" He beamed, shaking his head in amusement.

I snorted, which made him smile wider if that was at all possible.

"Try Anna."

"Uh-oh, should I warn Simon?"

"No, she's learned from her mistake. Hopefully," I added wistfully. "I seriously have to go though. Thanks for the...chat."

"Why don't I Apparate you? I have been noted as a gentle side along."

Goodness that sounded illicit.

He stared down at me with that smile. I nodded, blushing. "I forgot how easily you blush."

That only made me blusher harder. How embarrassing. "Shush up. Are you going to Apparate me or not?"

He laughed. "Of course." I walked forward and out of the store, keeping my eyes trained on the ground.

"Hey," he said softly, touching my cheek gently. "I only mentioned that because I like it when you blush. It's really beautiful."

Standing there with a beef roast in my arms, I couldn't help but gaze up at him in disbelief. He fancied girls like Isabelle Wood. Not me.

And yet, after I told him the location of the wedding, James placed his hand on my lower back carefully and made my head spin. Looking back, I'm not certain the effect was just from Apparating. I didn't realize then that I beginning to fail at not fancying him. Stupid.

**XXX**

**A/N:**

**I don't own HP!**

Let me know what you think! Reviews welcome!


	5. Different Sides

**Hogwarts Sixth Year**

James and I worked together with Epona almost on a daily basis now, which was admittedly more effective.

James had taken turn being one-on-one with Epona, so I decided to take out my sketchbook to capture the scene. James was so careful yet respectful with her, it was lovely to see. I only needed to stare at the two of them a couple times, then I was able to memorize the outline.

The broad stroke of James' shoulders, reaching out his arms to touch Epona's feathers. The messiness of his dark hair to his rolled up sleeves and loosened Gryffindor tie.

Meanwhile Epona stood tall and strong next to him, stretching out her wings to revel in the slight breeze in the air. And then there was the faded background, I glanced up to absorb the fine details and found James' eyes instead.

"You looked so involved," he commented with that easy grin. I expected him to analyze my drawing, or critique it in some way, but his eyes never left mine.

"It's not finished," I murmured, clearing my throat and gesturing to the drawing.

"I haven't looked at it yet. I wasn't sure if you wanted me to."

An appreciative smile flickered across my face. The light breeze shifted his hair in the sunlight and I noticed that it was slightly auburn. I must have been staring at it for a bit because James' hand shot up to his hair.

"What? Is it as spastic as usual?"

I smiled, shaking my head. I tried to explain what I'd been thinking.

"Oh yeah, that'd be the Weasley gene from my mum. Bypassed Al, but Lily and I got the redness." He ran a hand through his messy hair. "Though apparently the mop of disarray is a Potter male thing. What about you?"

"Oh," even my tone sounded uneasy. "Well, I have my mum's frame, I suppose. And her eyes."

"And you're lovely brown locks?"

I laughed. "You mean this disaster?" I shook my wavy hair, the long ends of it hitting James in the face.

He bellowed a dramatic cry, "I've been wounded," and fell to the ground. He rolled back in forth in mock agony.

I rolled my eyes. "Potter, you're being a tad overdramatic, don't you think?"

James held his arm over his face, yelling out "go on without me, darling."

I shook my head, but that didn't stop the smile from appearing on my face. "You're being ridiculous."

"I fear I won't last long," James moaned pitifully. He coughed with added effect.

"Someone is going to hear you, you know." My eyes took in the curious looks of our peers from far away.

"Let them hear the bittersweet cry of my woes." He rolled around on the ground, then grasped at my hand tightly. "Say you'll remember me."

I choked back a laugh, tears puddling in the corners of my eyes. It was too funny. I was failing to keep a straight face. "You're absurd."

He pulled on my hand, a strong tug that surprised me enough to fall forwards. I landed on top of him, the weight and effect was instant.

We both stopped laughing. James stared at me and I stared at him. Silence filled the air as our breaths mingled. If I moved an inch forward my lips would be on his. Merlin, I needed to stop. Right this second.

"James," I whispered, feeling warm despite the light breeze in the air.

James gazed up at me, touching my hair lightly, letting his hand brush my cheek before withdrawing it. I felt like I could swallow my heart. "Ainsly, there is something I need to tell you."

"Yeah?" I managed to pull myself away from him, preserving some dignity. At least my body was no longer touching his. However, my attention was still stolen by him.

"I-"

"Aww, how sweet of you James. You're helping the needy," Isabelle's voice interrupted.

James jumped about a foot away from me, sending Isabelle a look. She coiled herself around him, her arms wrapping themselves around his waist.

I got to my feet, dusting off any traces of dirt or grass. "I was just-"

"Leaving?" Her lips curled into a smile. "Please do."

"Isabelle," James scolded, sending me a strained look.

"Yes, I'm going to go. Epona needs...something." I walked backwards, away from them as I talked. I focused on their feet as I spoke, then turned my back and forced myself not to run to the grounds nearby where Epona was. I stopped behind a tree, lightly hitting the back of my head on the tree. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

"Let her go, James." Isabelle sounded peeved, letting out a frustrated noise. "What is with you? Do you care about that freak or something?"

My heart beat so hard in my chest waiting for his answer that I thought it would explode.

"Of course not. I barely even know her." James' confident, arrogant tone was staggering. It was like seeing or hearing two different people.

"Then why are you spending so much time with her," Isabelle argued. "She's a loser, James."

"We are working on a project together, okay?" He explained it calmly to Isabelle, but I was through listening. He didn't object or attempt to defend the fact that Isabelle had called me a loser, let alone her saying I was a freak.

James was exactly the boy I thought he was, selfish and inconsiderate. He looked me in the eyes and talked to me, all the while formulating such an opinion of who I was as a person.

How could he do that? Making my way over to where Epona was trotting around and spreading her wings, I opened my sketchbook to the drawing of James and Epona. My fingers lingered over James' shoulders, blinking back tears. And then I ripped the drawing in half, crumpling up the part with James on it and shoved it into my bag.

I was such an idiot.

**Present (One year Post-Hogwarts)**

"Oh bloody hell, this one makes me real nervous."

I had to agree with Delilah on that one. This place screamed Upper. It was all cream colors, tasteful yet elegant decor, and abstract art galore. Not to mention the delicate antiques. It was a bloody nightmare cloaked as a seemingly harmless engagement party. Did I mention that it was for Teddy Lupin and Victoire Weasley? Yeah, it was bad.

"So Anna is on a strict no wine glass, only solids policy tonight. Agreed?" Delilah's eyes moved across our team, landing last on Anna. We nodded, grabbed our platters, and walked out.

"Crab cake," I suggested to group gathered in the corner of the room.

Unfortunately, the group is a lot of grabby yet proper Upper's, so they give you a whole song and dance saying "why don't those look decadent." And then you needed to veer away because they will clean your plate. I managed to make it out of there with all my limbs, breathing a sigh of relief as I crossed the room. Honestly, the only people that I'd ever encountered uttering decadent were Uppers.

"Well well well, don't you look decadent," a voice observed and my blood ran cold. My entire body froze. It took all of me not to run out of the room after glancing at him. Ryan.

"Crab cake," I offered in a forced voice. Just do my job and walk away. I will not hurl this tray at him. Just do my job. And walk away.

"I noticed how you've grown," he emphasized grown with his blue eyes lingering on my chest. My stomach folded into itself, queasy. Despite the feeling, I forced myself to breathe slowly.

"Excuse me," I said calmly, attempting to walk away from him.

But then he grabbed my arm, swinging me back around to him. Images of hands touching me flashed behind my eyes, as if they'd been burned there. I yanked myself away from him, loosing some crab cakes along the way.

Thump. Thump. Some of the guests nearby seemed to be seriously considering if the five second rule could apply in this circumstance. Frankly, I just wanted to get away.

"Don't touch me," I spat, my temper and anxiety fraying.

"You're such a tease." He smiled that dazzling smile that charmed many a female. Personally, it sickened me. "Shall we skip the song and dance, love?"

"You're incorrigible," I replied through clenched teeth. I heard him call my name as I scurried away.

"Ainsly." Bloody hell. Why could I not just do my job in peace?

I turned with a smile on my face, feigning calm. "Crab cake?" James frowned at me, his forehead creased in concern.

"Ainsly, are you alright?"

I avoided his prying eyes, my breathing hitched. "Yes," my voice croaked, breaking slightly.

"Hey hey," he whispered, trying to coax me to meet his eyes. "Come with me." He grabbed my arm, set down my tray of crab cakes, and led me through the crowd. We made it outside, where we were completely alone, and I never felt more like screaming. I didn't though. Scream, I mean.

"Ainsly," James said, biting his lip nervously. "There is something I need to tell you." I received a serious case of deja vu at his words.

"What?"

"I-well you see," James stumbled and ruffled his hair. "Perhaps I'll tell you later, eh? I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Oh," I muttered, glancing down at my hands. "I'm fantastic."

"Ainsly, your hands are shaking." He grabbed my hands, rubbing them lightly in a way that was oddly soothing. "You're not fantastic."

"Wow James, that is not very nice," I tried to joke. But it definitely wasn't the rudest or meanest comment he has ever said about me.

"No, that came out wrong. You are fantastic. You're just...not right now?" He appeared to be deeply concerned that he had offended me somehow.

I released a sigh. This wasn't about him today, James hadn't created this turmoil. "Relax, James. It's okay. I'll be okay."

"Are you sure?" His frown deepened.

I nodded, forcing myself to be okay. I could always cry later when I'm alone. The therapist had said that I should allow myself to feel sad and angry over what happened, but I definitely wouldn't let it control my life.

"Hey, there is someone I'd like you to meet. Do you think you'd feel up to meeting him?"

A confused look must have crossed my face because he smiled softly, wrapping an arm around me. I felt instantly warm and, most of all, I felt strangely safe. I didn't get that sense in my gut, the one that told me that something was wrong. It was like the night I had James' jacket around me, causing the anxiety to fade away. I felt protected.

"It's my Uncle Charlie," James explained with an easy smile.

"I should get back to work," I reasoned.

"It will only be for a bit." James grabbed my hands, pleading with his eyes. However, I really was being serious about needing to get back to work. We were already short staffed tonight.

"I really can't right now," I stated. He appeared dejected for a moment, but then that smile came back.

"How about after you finish for the night? There is an after party," he asked me tentatively. James had a hopeful look in his eyes, like an adorable puppy.

I nodded my head with a small smile. "Alright."

I worked the rest of the night, staying on high alert of Ryan. However, I barely registered his presence in the way that James kept gazing at me from across the room. Then there was when he'd make subtle appearances to get an appetizer. His hand would linger on mine when I handed him a shrimp or crab cake. Apparently, he is pretty partial to shrimp.

And then came the after party, which James had extended the invitation to Delilah and Savannah as well. A lively Irish song was playing, which Freddy and Teddy were battling it out in a river dance routine. Simon stood nearby laughing when Freddy misstepped and tumbled into Teddy.

Everywhere we turned it was chaos, to the far right two older red headed men were setting off fireworks. And to the nearby left some people were playing Exploding Snap with a levitating scoreboard in the background.

In high drama fashion, Scorpius Malfoy was currently holding hands with Rose Weasley.

Upon our entrance, a look of pure discomfort morphed on Scorpius' chiseled face. In all honesty, it had to do with Anna, who is Scorpius' cousin. Anna looked blankly back at Scorpius', which was her way of making him sweat. "

Oh cousin," she sighed in a laborious breath. Rose stood up, taking on a defensive stance. Anna just raised an eyebrow at her. She was a cheeky little thing. Obviously, Anna didn't give a damn about the Greengrass, pureblood legacy rules. I'm her Muggleborn best friend for Melin sakes.

"Delphine. I don't give a bloody hell what Aunt Daphne says," he challenged. Anna is her middle name, which she identifies as rather than her first name.

Her name is Delphine. It's quite the mouthful for someone who finds it an effort to talk often. Also, it's dreadful.

"Good," Anna responded.

"Delphine- wait, what?" Scorpius was so surprised, it deserved an eye roll how oblivious he had been.

"It's Anna," she corrected in her monotone voice. Scorpius rolled his eyes and mumbled of course. "And met Sly?" She pushed me forward, presenting me like a prize winning pig. I glared at her. She wanted me to do the explaining. Girl really needed to practice using her words.

"I'm Muggleborn," I announced with a shrug. "We've been friends since first year. We live together in a predominantly Muggle neighborhood. Can I stop talking now?" I asked the question to Savannah who nodded, giving me a rare bright, expressive smile.

Then I turned back to the Wotters and Scorpius. "So she obviously thinks her mother's and the Greengrass family values are rubbish."

"I think I like her already, James." A man commented, stepping forward. He was a red head with a tanned, freckled good-natured face. A wide grin was spread across his face. He also had a scar on his cheek, and a large shiny burn on his arm as he extended it to me. "Charlie," he introduced himself. He glanced at James. "Jamie's favorite uncle."

James didn't even try to hide his scowl.

"Ainsly," I responded, shaking his hand firmly.

His fingers felt calloused and blistered from years of working outdoors with dragons. He grinned at me and holding out his large hand after withdrawing it from mine.

"I heard you were involved in the Niffler roundup before Jamie's last Quidditch game." James cringed at the nickname again, but listened politely. "Tricky little buggers Nifflers. We actually had a similar issue that involved some Doxies."

"Oh gosh. Doxies. Did you get bitten?"

"Too many times to keep count," he waved like it wasn't a huge deal.

"They infested so many draperies that we've got the Doxycide recipe memorized. Though we try to dispatch them with the Knockback Jinx as much as possible but that doesn't help sometimes."

"With Queens?"

"Exactly," he smiled, nodding his head. "Those Queens can be vicious. Have you had experience with Doxies?"

"Yes, a bit. I've made the Doxycide for our department but dragon livers are hard to come by here. I don't believe I could ever be a collector of creatures internal organs. Not to mention how vile smelling the potion really is."

"I can agree with you completely," Charlie replied. "Our tents almost always smell awful when we are out on the field. And cutting open or harming creatures was never an interest of mine."

"The history of Zygmunt Budge's development of the Doxycide has always fascinated me, though." I clapped my hands together, probably appearing like a overexcited dog.

I blushed, turning to meet James' eyes because I just remembered his presence.

James smiled at me, encouraging me to continue my conversation with his uncle. I turned back to Charlie, but jumped when I felt someone touch my wrist. James leaned forward, his lips hovering at the shell of my ear. "Is this okay?"

It was a casual touch, yet so gentle that it made me warm and tingly. I nodded, quietly, as my heart pounded. It felt okay at the moment, at least. James' smile was breathtaking, it reached his eyes and caused his cheeks to dimple. His thumb stroked a line across the inside of my wrist, causing a shiver to run up my spine.

"Aw yes," Charlie said, giving me a small knowing smile before continuing. "You're referring to when the Doxies inhabited Hermetray, correct?"

"Yes, um, his first attempt being not what he expected."

Charlie laughed. "Oh yes, making them fire-prone little beasts was definitely not his intention."

"Right!" I exclaimed and then forced myself to calm down. "Right. Having his house burn down was probably not in the plans. As well as the Doxies setting fire to the island."

"Nor the fact that he had to spend the night in the sea, breathing air through a hollow stick. Never had something like that happen personally, but there was this one time I came close with a Chinese Fireball. I got away from her nest, but walked into a Runespoor."

"A Runespoor? Those aren't native to Romania," I muttered with conviction.

"A bright witch and a lover of animals. Girl after my own heart." He glanced at James slyly, and added, "Sorry Jamie."

James groaned.

"James hates it when I call him that." He winked at me with another bought of laughter. "So I stood, staring at three heads of the Runespoor. I didn't know what to do."

"What'd the right head do?"

Charlie had been taking a drink of Butterbeer, but his eyes lit up at my words. He pointed at me, gulping quickly. "Excellent question, Ainsly. It was hissing at the left and middle head."

"You didn't get bit, did you?"

"No, thankfully. I bolted as a newbie." Charlie smiled at me.

We flew into another detailed discussion about the three separate heads of the Runespoor.

James stood next to me, looking a bit lost at the conversation. He shot up an eyebrow in amusement when he saw me look at him. "You should visit in Romania. I'll set you up with some contacts."

"Really?" I stared at Charlie, stunned. "That would be amazing."

I glanced at James and he smiled fondly down at me. His thumb traced a circle into my wrist.

Suddenly, Freddie called James from across the room, holding onto Teddy and Simon cheerfully. "Oi, Jamesy!" Or at least he tried to, but his words slurred, making it come out like Yamsie.

"Excuse me for a moment," James left after giving my wrist a gentle squeeze.

Charlie waited until James was out of ear shot before he turned to me with a devious smile. "So, how'd you meet our James?"

"Oh, we went to Hogwarts together." I shrugged my shoulders, truthful in my explanation.

"Dated?"

I laughed. "Merlin, no. James didn't even know my name for a bit," I admitted. "But we had some classes together. Worked together on a project for Advanced Care for Magical Creatures and then nothing."

"He snubbed you?" Charlie appeared disappointed and even a little upset at my words.

"Not so much as snubbed," I reasoned, picking up a nearby drink and traced the edges of the glass as I thought.

I'd never hated James at Hogwarts, we just lived in entirely different worlds. He was rich, popular, charismatic, athletic, and intelligent. Meanwhile, I was me. I meant nothing and was only remembered by my close friends and by professors. I was poor with a single mother raising me. After our first year flying lessons, I couldn't afford a broomstick to learn more on flying. So I rationalized that I would be afraid of heights anyways.

Even if he had been interested, which was impossible, James and I would have never worked out. "We just ran in different circles."

Charlie seemed uneasy, his brow furrowed. "Isabelle Wood?" I gave him a look, and then glanced at the ceiling for the right words.

"Isabelle Wood was..."

How did I put this nicely to someone who knew the Wood's well? Bloody hell, Isabelle's family (with the infamous Oliver Wood as her father) probably vacationed with the Potter/Weasley clan.

"She's awful," he supplied and I about choked. "You can admit it. The girl once talked to me for two hours straight about her authentic Antipodean Opaleye scaled purse."

I cringed. "But those are endangered, right?"

"Exactly," Charlie said with a sad smile. "There are only a few left now due to poaching."

"They are one of the most beautiful dragons and not particularly aggressive," I recalled. Charlie nodded solemnly. "That's terrible."

"Yes it is," he said. "I like to see that James' taste in women has improved, though."

"Oh we're not together," I argued.

"He just...was really partial to the shrimp I was serving tonight?" It was about the lamest reason ever, but I was sticking to it.

Charlie seemed to find it hilarious, so much so that he couldn't stop laughing. "Sorry," he panted and held out his hand out. "It's just funny."

"Obviously," I remarked with sarcasm lanced in my tone.

"No. You don't understand, Ainsly." Charlie grinned widely, as if he were getting ready to deliver the punchline to a joke. "James hates shrimp."

I continued to just stare at him, skeptical. "But-"

"It's true," he stated.

"This is ridiculous," I responded, tentatively. Of course, James chose that moment to reunite with our conversation. The one that currently involved my eyes widened and fixed on Charlie Weasley, disbelief clearly written on my face.

"Okay, sorry about that. What'd I miss?" He glanced in between Charlie and I, a puzzled look taking over his face. James glared at his uncle, folding his arms across his chest. "Okay, what is this rubbish about?"

Charlie just shrugged his shoulders and laughed.

**XXX**

**A/N**:

I don't own Harry Potter or anything identified from Fantastic Beasts.

Let me know your thoughts?!  
Any interactions you'd like to see?


	6. Heart's Scream

**Hogwarts Sixth Year**

_Dear Girl with the Flowered Dress,_

_I hope your morning has been the bees knees. Did that make you smile? I'm a wealth of cheesiness sometimes. I saw you in the Great Hall this morning and you were immersed in reading the Sunday Prophet. There was an article on the newfound breed of a creature in Asia. What did you think of the discovery? I was also wondering how you are today? You appeared subdued this morning, more than just caught up in thoughts. Please remember that I'm here to listen if something is ever troubling you._

_It's a lovely day outside, I'm planning to practice a bit of Quidditch later. Or perhaps I'll go down for a walk near the Black Lake. However, some of those clouds have been lingering, so I hope the rain holds off until the evening. Enjoy the sun._

_Yours truly,_

_Daisy_

I folded away the letter with a small smile on my face. Well, at least that was something that cheered me up from my efforts to avoid James Potter. The last bit especially caused butterflies to flutter around in my stomach. Someone thought I was beautiful. From where I sat, I heard the familiar whistling of a tune and immediately busied myself.

"Hey," James said to me, standing in the doorway of the barn. He sounded cheerful.

I ignored him, keeping my eyes on the rope I was untangling.

"Um, hello?" I ignored him and walked out of the room without comment. It had began to rain slightly, which in Ireland we would have called it a soft rain. It seemed like Daisy wouldn't be taking a walk around the lake anytime soon. A pity.

My steps walked with purpose as I made it out the doorway of the barn. However, the rope seemed to have different plans when it snagged on a protruding nail, and yanked me sideways. I landed in a painful angle on my right hip, mud streaked the whole way up my leg. The flower pattern on my dress was muddy beyond belief so I sat there, too pathetic for movement.

"Blood hell, Ainsly. Are you alright?"

Like you care, I thought bitterly. It was expected that a loser, or freak, like myself would make a fool out of herself. I knocked away his outstretched hand and hauled myself up, only to slide on another muddy spot.

In a rare fit of unbridled frustration, I lifted my hands and struck the ground with a thick sounding squish. Mud flew all over, including my face and James Potter's shoes. They looked new. I hoped they would stain, which was probably a petty thing to hope for.

"Hey. Please tell me...what is wrong?"

"Nothing," I whispered in a huff. All I wanted was to disappear—from this situation, this imbalance of social power and bullying populace.

"Oi, James," a male voice called. "Are we still having Quidditch practice in this downpour?"

Ryan stood at the top of the hill, peering down at us through the rain. Great; just brilliant. Now they can call me Mudkip or something as well.

James ignored him for a moment, reaching down to lift me up before I had the chance to protest. He cast a quick warming charm on me, filling me with sweet heat to protect me from the frigidity.

"Forgive me," he mumbled with rain streaking down the sides of his face, until the liquid curved his jawline and fell into the hiding spot of his jumper's neckline. It all confused me, even as I watched him and run to Ryan.

My eyes were focused on James' back—on his broad stature and casual gestures—that I didn't notice the pinning gaze of Ryan's blue eyes on me. After a brief moment and heated exchange of words, James took off running down towards the Quidditch pitch.

However Ryan remained there, staring intently, and then he gave me a slow wave. I turned quickly, rushing to get Epona out of the rain.

Later in the evening, I went to the owlery to send the letter to Daisy. I could sense something up ahead of me, like someone was watching me from far above. A flash of a dark robe in the moonlight entered my view, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to rise. It looked as if someone had silently ran down from the balcony.

"Ainsly?"

I tripped over something on the floor, falling to the ground for the second time that day right on my butt. Simultaneously, I let out a shriek, loud and ringing out of my mouth, and caused a nearby flock of owls to become startled. The owls fluttered around the owlery, disappearing into the darkness of the rafters high above me.

"Oh Merlin," I exclaimed, placing a hand to my chest to calm my pounding heart. "You scared the piss out of me."

"Godric," James responded, tucking a old piece of parchment in his pocket. "You really can scream, huh?"

"Is this how you get your kicks?" I gestured angrily to him, hands flailing to cease my trembling. "You just lurk around in the dark, attempting to wig people out."

"Wig people out?" James' mouth curled up in amusement. "Is that an American term?"

"To scare them," I clarified.

"I wasn't lurking." He read my yeah-right look. "Truly, I wasn't. I actually called your name about seven times. You just didn't hear me."

"Well, I bet you're happy you messed with me. Going to gloat?" I knew I was basically throwing an unjustified tantrum, but I was so angry at him. And so disappointed in myself for letting him get to me. Again.

"No," he said slowly, as if he were trying to calm a cornered creature. He held up his hands in surrender, eyes wide and unsmiling. "I'm not, Ainsly."

I ignored him, staring out at the night sky. The stars had come out, creating their chains and links for constellations. "I didn't see you."

I felt the weight of James' stare and folded my arms across my chest, hugging myself tightly. "I know," he said softly.

"You startled me," I whispered, both to him and myself.

"I'm sorry," James said, reaching out a hand to help me up, but I ignored it. "Ainsly, come on. Let me help you up."

"Why?" I kept my eyes on the ground, refusing to become captured by those eyes.

"Because I don't want to see you on the cold ground," he said it like a question, rather than a statement.

"No," I shook my head. "Why are you doing all of this? Why are you acting like you care?"

"Wait," James replied, squinting at me carefully. "Are you really mad at me?"

"Why do you care?" My voice was losing its bite, fading in strength. "Just leave me alone."

"Did I do something?" He sounded confused, which was laughable. So I laughed.

I stared at him, flashing him a knowing look. "We are basically finished with our project."

The blunt statement appeared to puzzle him further, his brow furrowing in concentration. "So what? I'm not allowed to talk to you afterwards, or now? I thought we got past this point. I thought were were friendly towards each other, at least.

I sighed, running a hand over my hair to detangle it. It was best to just stay silent.

"Sly?" The use of my nickname bristled me.

"Only my friends call me that," I said coldly.

He laughed sarcastically, a look of pure frustration on his face. James ran a hand through his hair, creating a beautiful disarray that would be worthy of a painting. "Right, right. It all makes perfect sense."

"I mean nothing to you, right?" My eyes pricked as I asked him. "So I'm relieving you of whatever obligation you feel you have to interact with me."

Realization clicked into his eyes, a look of anguish fixed on his face. "You heard what I said to Isabelle," James murmured guiltily. "Ainsly-"

"Just go, James." All I could think of was the words loser and freak, uttered over and over again, like tormenting beat of a drum.

"You won't even hear me out?"

I didn't talk to him after that because, honestly, I was uncertain if I wanted to risk more trickery.

"How very direct," James commented with a sardonic amusement. "But I suppose that's just like an American, eh?"

He practically spat American like a filthy word. It almost felt worse than being called a Mudblood. It suggested that I didn't belong in his world; this country.

I remained silent, staring at him through fresh eyes.

"Ainsly, there are things that you... just don't understand." His voice was stiff, arrogant even, and that other person switched in. "Think what you like then. It's not like you know anything about me anyways."

James hitched himself from the doorway, his mouth pressed in a firm line, and then he sauntered out of the room. James paused again, just beyond the doorway, but I focused on the balcony and the night sky.

Eventually he left, a dead look in his eyes as a painful silence took over. It was when I heard his footsteps fade that I allowed the tears to fall.

**Present (One Year Post-Hogwarts)**

_Dear Ainsly,_

_I wish you to know that you have been the last dream of my soul...(Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities). Often I wonder what I did to stop receiving your letters, yet I press on and continue to send them to you. Perhaps I am merely hopeful. I miss your words, the happy look in your eyes, the dream of us meeting. I'm worried about you. Hope to hear from you. I will not give up hope._

_Yours truly,_

_Daisy_

It had been a while since I'd read that final letter. It still made my heart clench painfully. However, it had been necessary for me to stop writing. It had all been a trick, a joke to poke fun at the loser; wasn't it?

Still...he'd had such kind words. It seemed it had been another writing them, not Ryan. Whomever it was...they had a way with words, a cruel weapon that struck the heart deeply. Daisy may not have given up on hope, but I certainly had.

"Sly!" Delilah called. She was reading from a book of poetry when I walked in the kitchen. James was sat on one of our chairs, while Delilah leaned against the counter

"Is love a fancy or a feeling? No." She said it determinedly, coated with dramatic air and arm raised philosophically.

"Um," I hesitated, resisting the urge to back out of the room.

Delilah held up her hand muttering a quick, "sshhhhh." James raised his eyebrows, biting his lower lip to keep from laughing.

Delilah straighten her frame, placing her hands on the counter as she read. She read the entirety of Sonnet VII by Hartley Coleridge.

"Wow," James commented as silence filled the air.

"Thank you, Delilah. That was... lovely," I said softly. Then I turned to James, giving him a questioning glance. "Not to be rude, but why are you here?"

James didn't appear to be the least bit offended. He stood up with a wide grin on his handsome face. "I thought I might surprise you?"

Delilah let out a groan. We both turned towards her, and she was sending James a pointed look. "She hates surprises," she whispered to him, as if I couldn't hear them.

James turned towards me, curious. "You do?"

I nodded my head solemnly.

"Well," said James, as his eyes searched the ceiling for answers. "I was going to take you flying, and then I also I brought a picnic."

"How do you know I don't have to work today?" There was a cough and I saw Delilah fidgeting with a guilty look on her face. "Oh."

"You still don't have to," James explained, but there was hope in his eyes. "But I thought you'd enjoy it."

His eyes went to the window, gazing at the beautiful day outside.

"Come on, Ainsly. Don't you ever allow yourself a day off?" And then his eyes locked on our television. "Or we could just stay in? I could bring the picnic up and we could watch the tele," he offered, rambling on. I don't think I'd seen him so...out of his element.

"Fine," I said, and rolled my eyes as Delilah gave me thumbs ups. "Just let me grab my jacket, ya?"

"Of course," he shined another easy smile at me. "Take your time."

"Not the one that makes you look like a runaway," Delilah called and I folded the faux leather jacket over my arm just to spite her. She rolled her eyes when she saw me, but smiled brightly. "Fine, look like a teenage runaway from a Lifetime movie. See if I care."

I looked down at my outfit, which was a red dress that reached just above the knee. It was hardly the case of a fashion disaster so I just shrugged, unbothered by her comment.

"I think you look nice," James commented, clearing his throat. He glanced at the morning glory tucked into my hair. "Very pretty."

"Ah Potter," Delilah began, ceasing her progress in the poetry book she had open on her lap. James nodded for her to continue, eyes attentive. "She comes back the way she left. If she's harmed in any way, or we have to send a search party, then your balls are going to be on the chopping block."

Her words were serious, the warning setting me on edge from a previous experience that caused her and Anna to find me in the Forbidden Forest. The warning disturbing because it had happened before.

"Delilah," I warned, because we'd promised not to speak about the particular incident.

James swallowed. However, he seemed more troubled at the details of the warning. "Of course. I'd never harm her. I hope you know that."

"I still mean what I said," she glared with narrowed eyes.

"I do, too."

Delilah considered him for a long moment, nodded at me, and then returned to reading her book. "Have fun," she chirped.

When we made it outside, James cleared his throat again. He seemed a bit nervous. It was strange to see when he'd been so confident, and even egotistical, when we were at Hogwarts together.

"That was oddly cryptic of Delilah," he said. "Does that happen often?"

"Don't know," I shrugged. I didn't go out with very many men. Not that I'd label this as a date, or going out either. You know what they say about assumptions. But technically, I reasoned, we were going outside somewhere. Going outdoors, going out...Merlin, my brain needed to shut off sometimes.

"I never had that intense of a threat when taking a girl out before," he said with a smile.

Butterflies erupted in my stomach at his implication. Was this a date of sorts? "Even when I was with Isabelle, and Oliver Wood can be a frightening man. Not just when it comes to Quidditch."

And goodbye nice feeling. Lethal topic: Isabelle. He must have registered my silence and winced.

"Sorry," James apologized, rubbing the back of his neck. "Isabelle wasn't always...difficult."

I snorted. "Difficult is one way of putting it."

"We grew up together. Believe it or not she used to be a tomboy, loved Quidditch as much as her dad."

"Is this the part where you tell me she's changed now?" I frowned, concentrating on the sidewalk in front of me. "Because you're barking up the wrong tree."

"Well, no..." he hestitated. "But people do change. They can, anyways." Something in his tone was off, so I turned to stare at him.

"You mean like you have?" That got his attention. James looked at me for a very long time, like he wanted to tell me something.

"Yes," he swallowed. "I have changed. I'm trying not to be the conceited, obnoxious prat I played up to be at Hogwarts."

"I never called you obnoxious," I pointed out. He laughed.

"No, you didn't. But you had a way of looking straight through people, while only saying very few words." He looked into my eyes, intently searching. "You still do."

"Hmm," I hummed. "People talk too much sometimes." James considered my words, but I added on. "Perhaps that's why I like creatures."

"Ya?" He pressed, curious. "What do you like the most about them?"

"They are just honest," I clarified. "I draw their picture and there is no political bullcrap wrapped up in who they are."

"The messed up hierarchy of Hogwarts spoiled many chances for people to become friends." James glanced over at me intentionally. I knew what he meant.

"Yes," I said carefully. "Just look at Anna and Simon."

"Or you and me," James replied sullenly, and then with a flicker it was gone. Banished by a smile. "We are here, by the way."

Glancing around me, I noticed that we were in an abandoned parking lot. I raised my eyebrows at the graffitied buildings that lined this side of the street. This was a bad sign, which should definitely have my creep-o-meter flying off the charts.

However, there was no bad feeling in my gut...perhaps I should speak to my therapist about it being broken?

James must have sensed my apprehension, but just took my hand and led me up the stairs of one of the ruined houses. It seemed abandoned. My heart began to pound.

"Potter," I warned, and took deep breaths to remain calm. The inside of the house was worse. Anxiety and panic rose up inside of me; a choking sensation creeping up my throat.

Not good. This is irrefutably not a good situation.

He just squeezed my hand, "hold on. Just wait."

Those words couldn't have been worse to say to me. I bolted as soon as our feet passed the threshold, running until I shut myself into a closet. As I'd ran up a staircase, I heard James call out to me. He sounded panicked.

I heard footsteps approaching the closet and began rocking back and forth, attempting to drown out those words. He's not here. This isn't happening again. I forced myself into denial.

"Shhh," someone had whispered to me before, leading me down a darken path. "Hold on. Just wait a second. You're gonna love this..." the voice had reassured me. "It's a surprise, love."

My vision had been blurred then, just as it was beginning to blur now. I needed to focus.

"Ainsly?" I heard James' voice and covered my ears, rocking harder. "I'm coming in."

He opened the door slowly, a look of pain appeared on his face. "I'm going to sit next to you," he stated. "Would that be okay?"

I choked, nodding my head quickly, but slammed my eyes shut again. He slowly sat down next to me, and I felt his tentativeness.

After what felt like an eternity, I became acutely aware of how small the space was, but for some reason I didn't feel as anxious. It was all passing.

"Ainsly?"

"Yeah," I whispered faintly, opening my eyes. I identified items in the closet and articles of clothing on me to help me relax.

"Why are we sitting in a closet?"

"I never liked 'why' questions," I stated blandly. "They suggest judgment."

"Ainsly?" He said after a beat of silence. "You say the strangest things sometimes."

"I know," I replied, and suddenly I was becoming very embarrassed.

"Ainsly," he spoke my name again. I turned to look at him and nodded my head slowly. "Can I hold your hand?" I stared at him in the dark, bewildered.

"Yeah," I offered my hand and realized that it was trembling again. I hoped that he wouldn't notice.

James hand was gentle as his fingers laced through mine. "You really hate surprises, huh? But I think it might be more than that..."

I nodded my head, slow and careful. "Yes."

"That's alright."

He wasn't going to make me tell him what was going on? I realized, in overwhelming relief, that he was just being there for me. I focused on him, instead.

James leaned back against the closet and remained silent. I could hear the faint sound of his breathing, as his thumb stroked the back of my hand. I could smell the soapy scent of his skin to a sweeter, heady smell from his hair.

"Can I tell you about where I was going to take you? No more surprises." He swallowed before adding, "I'm sorry I did that."

I nodded my head. "You're not going to kill me and bury my body are you?" I joked with him, trying to lighten the situation.

"Of course not," he replied, shaking his head. He squeezed my hand comfortingly. "Let me describe outside for you... there is a big Quidditch Pitch, a garden off to the side, there are a few picnic tables, and trees..." he trailed off, recalling.

"How?" I asked a bit skeptical.

"Magic," he smiled. "Dad allowed us to have another base to practice out of the way of reporters. Muggles can't see it either."

I nodded, silent as ever. He probably wanted to take me home to get rid of me now.

"Can I show you it when you feel ready?" He asked it so tentatively. I frowned, confused.

"You don't want me to leave?" Now it was his turn to stare at me in silence, apparently.

"Why would I want that?" His brow furrowed, the outline of his face in the dark frowning.

I shrugged, avoiding his eyes in my embarrassment.

James tilted my chin up to meet his eyes, his fingertips resting lightly against my skin.

"Come with me?" He smiled kindly, and in the dark his white teeth were visible. "Please."

"Alright," I nodded and it caused his fingertips to slip, grazing softly against my cheek.

My heart leaped into my throat, pounding loudly in my ears. James' other hand was still laced with my own. James offered me his other hand and lightly kicked open the closet door. He pulled me to my feet as I stood up with him. James held my hand as we walked down the stairs, telling me where we were going as we went. Finally, when we were outside, I felt completely at ease.

Of course James had been serious when he'd said there was a Quidditch pitch... I just hadn't expected it to be so...massive. Uppers, my mind muttered with a mental eye roll.

The field was cover in wildflowers and sheltered by thick trees. And a quilted blanket was folded up on picnic table, seated next to a basket. Two brooms were leaning against the table next to it.

I turned to James, "You really planned this, huh?" James presented me with a sheepish smile.

"Want to try flying?" He glanced towards the pitch, a juvenile smile sliding on his face. He grabbed his broomstick, spinning it around deftly. I hesitated, unsure how to tell him that I hadn't tried flying since first year.

James glanced at me, concerned. "Oh, I forgot to ask. Are you afraid of heights?"

This was my out if I wanted it, but James just seemed so eager yet concerned. Instead, I tried to explain what was going on in my head.

"So you haven't tried flying since first year," he sounded dumbfounded. I suppose for a professional Quidditch player it sounded unheard of; impossible even.

"But they had spare brooms even if you didn't have the-" James stopped himself, biting his lip.

"Money?" I supplied, and gave a small smile. "It's alright to say it, James. I grew up pretty poor."

"I know," he muttered and then winced slightly.

I raised my eyebrows at him. "You do?"

James appeared slightly guilty, ruffling the back of his hair nervously. "Well ya, you kinda shouted it at me during your...more vocal times. That others didn't have such wealth to live off of."

A flash of sadness shined in his eyes for a moment. "In your defense, I was being a prat at the time."

"Aye," I recalled the memory with a sigh. "Perhaps both of us had some issues." And still do, I reminded myself bitterly.

"Maybe," he reasoned with a sad smile. "How about I take you flying? I could teach you, as well."

I glanced skeptically down at James' broom, which he'd placed between his legs to prepare for kickoff.

I nodded my head, quietly consenting and took the leap before overthinking it. And then I found myself seated in front of James Potter, his arms shielding me in from falling. My back was pressed against his strong chest, as his voice spoke into my ear sending shivers down my arms and neck. I felt faint and shaky, and...alive.

I laughed, holding up an arm to cut through the air. Is this how Hippogriffs feel? I must have asked it out loud because a rumbling laugh came from behind me.

James placed his lips at the shell of my ear, "I've wondered the same. I think Epona would want to go higher, though."

At some point I decided I was slowing James down, or that I had enough flying practice for that day. My feet touched the ground with James carefully helping me off the broomstick. And then I watched him loop and spin, flying up higher, and then diving down. He glided through the air, a carefree look on his face, like he truly belonged there.

I swung myself up into a tree, losing my shoes so that my feet dangled over a branch. Propping my arms up on an overhead branch, I just sat and my watched him.

At some point I lost sight of him as he dipped up into the clouds above and sighed. What have I been thinking? He's a Quidditch star, not to mention entitled to the Potter fame and fortune. Sure, he seemed to have changed, but that didn't mean that my situation had. Even if James Potter was truly interested in me, it didn't mean we would work out.

He would be slumming with me, when he so clearly had the pick of any Upper (or not) woman.

A gentle tap on on my arm interrupted the grim thoughts. "Would you fancy some lunch?" James had stood, and was looking up at me expectantly from the base of the Willow tree, tapping my arm with the butt of his broom.

I smiled down at him, casting away the old thoughts. "Only if you're making it."

James nodded, smirking deviously. "You say that now." He wagged his finger at me. "I could be a terrible cook."

"I think I'll take my chances," I laughed. It was better just to enjoy this moment while it lasted, I reasoned. Delilah was always telling me to live in the moment.

Seated on the ground, with the blanket spread out, we picked at a fruit salad, sandwiches, and a treacle tart. James poured some Pumpkin Juice for each of us and stacked a Cauldron Cake on my plate.

I flashed James a look of surprise, they were my favorite. He grinned coyly.

"Delilah?" I asked, but he shook his head.

"You always got them at Honeydukes," he blushed slightly and shrugged.

"What do you fancy?"

His eyes lingered on my face, and I could have imagined it but they seemed to focus longer than necessary on my lips.

"Canary creams?" His eyes sparkled with laughter. "Ever tried them?"

I sent him a playful glare, pushing on his shoulder lightly. "You know very well that I did. Your stupid prank to the Ravenclaw table in Sixth Year saw to that."

He sent me an apologetic look, reclining back and folded his arm behind his head. "I really was a prat," he sighed.

"But that doesn't seem to be you now," I reasoned softly.

His eyes searched mine, "I'm trying not to be that guy anymore."

I didn't know how to respond to that, it sounded like the thought was so raw for him. James smiled, ruefully. "I like chocolate frogs, in all seriousness."

"If you make a cliché comment about your name I will throw this Cauldron Cake at you." I warned with my hand on the treat.

He smiled deviously, "As you know, my name is Siri-" James' words were silenced by me shoving my half-eaten Cauldron Cake in his mouth.

He laughed through the mouthful and tried to tackle me, but I took off running down the field. With chocolate on my hands and a smile on my face, I screeched as James caught up to me. He picked me up at the waist and I laughed harder.

All those negative thoughts from earlier passed by like clouds in the sky. Maybe...just maybe I could tolerate the occasional surprise.

**XXX**

**A/N:**

I don't own Harry Potter, Charles Dickens, or Sonnet VII Hartley Coleridge

Thank you for the lovely review!  
Keep them coming! I want to know your thoughts!


	7. Pangs of the Past

**Hogwarts Sixth Year**

The sun was beginning to rise, light filtering through the barn windows as I peered down at my sketchpad.

Epona's sleeping form was half done, so I must have nodded off at some point. The rigorous studying for exams, and overall lack of sleep, must have finally taken its toll on me. Rubbing my eyes, I tried to straighten my stiff back and limbs. It became clear that falling asleep on the wooden bench had not been a good idea.

"I'm telling you he's not down here," Fred Weasley sang.

"Oh shut up, Freddie." I listened closely to identify the other male voice. "He's been down here practically every other day."

Ryan and Freddie were talking about James, that much I gathered after listening for a few more minutes.

"I just don't get it," Ryan grumbled. "It's just a Hippogriff. And now he's so sullen all the time. It's just a bloody creature."

"I don't think it's about the Hippogriff, mate." Freddie replied, his voice sounded wise and much too close for my liking.

"Of course, he spoke with you about it. I'm always out of the loop." I sensed the scowl on his face as Ryan said it.

"Simmer down, mate. We're cousins, and you're acting like we're shagging." I heard Fred laugh stomp off towards the castle.

Ryan hadn't responded and it was quiet, so I thought he'd left, too. With a sigh, I packed up my things and made to walking out of the barn.

"Oh hello," Ryan said, causing me to jump and drop my bag. He smiled sweetly. "Are you the Hippogriff?"

I raised an eyebrow at him, remaining silent. Ryan walked up closer to me, eyeing my body up and down lazily. I squirmed under his piercing blue gaze, clearly demonstrating my discomfort. Something just wasn't right about his presence, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

Ryan leaned into the doorway, blocking my way out with two strong arms. "James around?" His eyes roamed the inside of the room, like I'd stowed James away somewhere amongst the hay bales.

Ryan inched his body further into the doorway, forcing me to take a step backwards. "Ainsly, right?" I nodded, staying silent as I carefully studied him. "James mentioned as much. Quiet and...pretty."

I swallowed audibly. "He talked about me?"

Ryan smirked. "Ya, a few times. Still hung up on Isabelle, though, that one. So I'd be careful if I were you." He must have noticed my face change because he frowned. "No sense getting hurt, right?"

I squinted at him. "There isn't anything going on between us," I forced out.

"Right," Ryan said. "Good. See you around?"

I hummed an acknowledgement and avoided eye contact as I excused myself, almost grazing Ryan's body on my way out of the doorway. Boy was wigging me out. I walked quickly up the hill to the castle, feeling like I was being watched with each step I took.

Throughout the day, I continued to avoid James, but it seemed that it was unnecessary because he seemed to be doing the same. It was almost dinner time when I was rereading Daisy's latest letter in the library, sitting around procrastinating my homework.

_Dear Sweets Girl,_

_Did you try the chocolate wands I sent you? It's a new kind that just came out with orange in it. I hope you like it. Your latest letter made me so happy, so much so I'm afraid I appeared a grinning fool at practice today. Also, I read the newest book by Newt Scamander like you suggested, and it was brilliant. Are you going to go into Magizoology when we graduate Hogwarts? I bet you'd _be fantastic. I'm _uncertain what I want to do... Hope to hear from you soon._

_Yours truly,_

_Daisy_

I'd come to like Daisy so much now... His letters were always so kind and thoughtful, it made me almost want to cry.

"Fred Weasley!" I heard Delilah before I saw her. She stormed into the library with a head full of magenta hair. Wide eyed, I turned to Anna, who looked unimpressed with the events as she tried to finish her Ancient Runes essay.

I nudged her body slightly and poked her with the feather side of a quill, but she still remained unresponsive. So I just rolled my eyes and glanced over to where Delilah was, hoping she didn't get in trouble. I felt something nudge my foot, and Anna gestured for me to go handle Delilah before all hell broke loose. I meant to protest, but Anna became absorbed in her essay once again.

"Fine," I released a sigh of resignation. "But if I die it's on you."

"Mhmm," she murmured unhelpfully.

I walked over to where Delilah had Freddie cornered, she appeared to be ready to blow a gasket.

"You bumbling thunder twat!"

Well, that was certainly a good start to a calm conversation.

Simon, James, Isabelle, and a bunch of Isabelle's friends were seated with Freddie. This was definitely looking worse by the minute. Dammit Delilah.

"Wotcher, Ollivander. Might I say you're looking lovely this afternoon." Freddie smiled innocently, and casually gestured in Delilah's direction. "Did you do something different with your hair?"

Delilah pulled out her wand, ready to hex him into oblivion with a pretty scowl on her face.

I quickly placed a hand on her arm, attempting to persuade her not to do it. "Not worth it, Delilah."

Her back stiffened, arm still outstretched and jaw clenched, but her eyes flicked to me. She was beginning to cool down, her head weighing the consequences of what she was about to do.

"Prefect," I reminded her, gentle and calm.

She sighed, nodding her head slowly when she met my eyes again. Then she turned back to Freddie, "Detention, Weasley."

"But tomorrow's our game against the Puffs," Freddie objected, looking helplessly at his cousin for support.

James glared at him, laying into him about this not being an excuse to miss practice tonight. James acted like I wasn't even there, avoiding the space that my body filled.

"J," Isabelle cooed. "How about you just delay practice until Freddie gets out of detention? We could spend some time together."

Spend some time together, I mentally rolled my eyes at the innuendo for snogging each other's faces off. Or shagging. He had more brains than to accept—

"Sure," James smirked at Isabelle and practically hauled her into his lap. What a fool I'd been to think he'd react otherwise.

"Ew, creepy freak alert."

I awoke out of my pensive state, blinking stupidly at the table.

Delilah stared at me with a troubled look on her face. She must have found a way to vanish the pink hair because it was back to her normal red locks.

"Seriously, you need to leave before we catch the loser disease." Isabelle smiled sweetly as though she was offering prudent advice.

"What did you say?" Delilah spat the words at Isabelle, venom on her tongue. "You don't talk to her like that, you bint."

"Why I'm just stating the obvious-"

"Shut it, Isabelle." Surprisingly it was Simon who spoke up in defense of me. But I kept my expression neutral, forcing myself to examine James' reaction. His eyes met mine for a fraction of a second, a flash of regret in his gaze before it vanished.

I don't know why I felt so disappointed. Turning away, I decided to go to Potions, take dinner early and then go to the Forbidden Forest before it became dark. Maybe I'd pen a letter to Daisy, too.

**XXX Three Hours Later XXX**

_Dear Daisy,_

_I'm doing fine, that's what I want to say, but I should tell the truth, huh? Despite my efforts to not let tasteless things get me down, I cannot hide the fact that my friends worry needlessly. I got bullied a tiny bit again today. The reason for it must have been the fuss over getting praised by the professor in Potions this evening. I'm upset with the bullies but the most important thing is to not sink to their level. It's just a little hard when the circumstances cause me to lose my appetite. But enough sulking; how are you doing today? What classes did you enjoy, or find troublesome? Tomorrow is another day and a clean slate as always._

_Sincerely,_

_Ainsly_

I shall not lament my misfortunes. Bearing the tough times, surviving while waiting for the right time, it's all a part of life's bitter test. Right now I'm simply waiting for a chance to calm, to organize my thoughts in a place of comfort: the Forbidden Forest.

However, I'd just finished writing my letter to Daisy when it became clear that it was time to leave. You can always tell when the forest becomes unwelcome because an eery feeling settles into the trees, like a red flag of caution.

My feet carried me slowly from the Forbidden Forest, my sketchpad and letter thumping lightly against my side as I walked. The sun was fading, a caste of colors against the darkening sky that made me pause.

So beautiful and fleeting.

Feeling inspired, I dropped to the ground and just stared for a while to think. Not long afterwards, I had my arm tucked under my head and spread out on the grass. There were crickets chirping in the background, deafening any minuscule sound in the distance.

When I turned my eyes to the sky again, it made me feel small and delicate amongst the mass of glittering stars.

For some reason I felt in the mood to hum the tune to Star of the County Down. I kicked off my shoes and shed my socks, relishing in my peaceful mood with my eyes closed. My bare feet kissed the coolness of the grass and I smiled, whilst I continued humming.

"She looked so sweet in her two bare feet," a voice interrupted, singing softly.

My eyes found James' broad form in the moonlight, his face turned towards the stars. His hair gleamed as if it had been recently washed. He tucked an old piece of parchment in his pocket, which felt like a familiar action.

"It's from," I corrected him with my eyes lingering on the sky, as well. "She looked so sweet from her two bare feet...to the sheen of her nut brown hair."

"Huh," he smiled, ruffling the back of his hair.

I ignored the thoughtful noise.

James flopped down on the grass next to me after another minute, heaving out a sigh. "That's Sirius, you know." He pointed upwards, gesturing in the right direction.

I just stared at him, silent in my disbelief.

"I like to think he's watching over me sometimes. I don't know why I tell you these things..." His ellipsis was followed by a labored sighed. "You're still mad at me, huh?"

And something clicked in my brain. I was only good enough to speak to when there was no one else around. Ten minutes of silence passed and James rose from his spot on the ground. "It's getting really dark out. Want me to walk you back?"

He held out his hand, extending the olive branch only for me to slap it away. I diverted my eyes from the twenty-broom pileup of charming prat.

Getting up myself, I shook my head and practically sprinted away from him.

"Oi, you forgot your letter."

That caused an affective reaction: panic. My hands rushed to grab my letter to Daisy, and I wondered if he saw the name neatly scrawled on the top.

A silly part of me fantasized that James was actually Daisy, but their differences were becoming apparent. We had begun walking up the hill when I had the thought.

_No, he couldn't be Daisy... but what if_—

With the thought circled in red highlighter in my mind, I grabbed the back of his jumper and stopped him from walking forward.

James raised an eyebrow at me. "Something wrong?"

I let the jumper go, realizing he truly didn't think anything was amiss. The way that he was looking at me, it was the forced politeness of someone potentially toying with me. Not someone who I had thought was becoming my friend, despite my fight with him.

And it definitely didn't have the affectionate tone of Daisy. Daisy always seemed to care.

"No," I sighed, shaking my head. "Nothing."

I repeated the statement to myself, attempting to be more convinced. But...if that were so, why did I feel like my heart hurt?

**Present (One Year Post-Hogwarts)**

"Hey," James stood outside the Beastologist office with the falling leaves in the background. "I brought you some hot chocolate."

"Oh," I stared at him holding two cups in his large hands. "Wow."

He grinned at me, but then it faltered when I didn't take the cup outstretched towards me. "What? You don't like hot chocolate? I'm sorry, I should have asked."

"No," I shook my head.

He frowned, an awkward look morphing on his face.

"I mean yes. No and yes." I bit my lip because this wasn't coming out right. I ran a hand over my face and through my hair. "I like hot chocolate."

"Right!" He beamed and pushed the cup into my hand. He blushed lightly when some of the liquid splashed down the back of my hand, dripping softly onto the sidewalk like the first sign of rain.

"I'm sorry. Godric...forgive me. Did that burn you?" He set the cups down beside him on a nearby bench and ran a hand over his face.

When had he gotten as awkward as me? It was bizarre to see.

I shook my head, smiling softly at him. "I'm okay, James."

At my words, he peered at me through his long lashes. "You just surprised me."

He nodded his head, avoiding my eyes again and took a drink of his hot chocolate. I examined my own cup and traced the lettering of my name, which had the letter y turned into an blooming flower.

"That's so neat," I observed and with a flick of his wand, James charmed the flower to open and close over and over again.

I laughed, showing teeth as I grinned at him. The action caused him to gape at me, his eyes glued to my face. I coughed, suddenly self-conscious and shy.

"You never show your teeth when you smile," James observed and I just shrugged. "It's nothing bad, I just realized that you never do. It's really stunning."

Warmth radiated through me.

"Oh...um, thank you." James awarded me with another wide grin in response. I took a sip from my cup and then cleared my throat. "Were you in the area?"

"Um, sort of..." He glanced around, eyes pinned on something in the distance. "Oh a market! I think they have plants. We should get one."

"A plant?"

"Yeah," James said cheerfully and then grasped my hand to pull me over to the display.

"Aren't these great?" He pointed to the Bleeding Hearts, beautiful and delicate in their pinks and whites.

"Yeah," I replied, softly, a little confused. "Have you ever heard the story behind them?"

"No," he shook his head, but his eyes glowed with interest. "What is it?"

"My grandmother once told me a story about a prince who pursued a maiden. However, the maiden took no notice of him, despite his efforts to get her attention. The prince gave her gifts, but she didn't respond to the two pink bunnies he'd presented. He presented her with another gift, yet, she merely sighed so he came back the next day. The prince was hopeful when he presented her with a pair of enchanted earrings. He held the two long white petals up to her ears, but the maiden still failed to notice."

James leaned forward, listening intently.

"Now the prince was heartbroken... and he felt that he could no longer try to win the heart of the maiden. So he rose up, unsheathed his dagger, and stabbed himself in the heart."

"What about the maiden?" He sounded sad.

"When the prince stabbed himself in the heart, she realized that she loved him, too. Too late, though. She was heartbroken, as well. It's said that the bleeding heart is hers' continuing to bleed endlessly."

I felt like that was the longest amount of time that I'd spent talking with James, whilst he only listened.

"That is one of the most depressing things I've ever heard," James said, and feigned outrage. "How could you? How could your grandmother. That's bloody tragic."

I shrugged, unhelpfully, and laughed.

"Okay..." James glanced at the flowers, lightly stroking a petal. "So not these ones?" Uncertainty was laced in his tone. "Too depressing."

"These are actually one of my favorites, but not my favorite." I considered. "There is so much unspoken history with flowers."

"But doesn't it's meaning make you sad?"

"Not at all," I smiled, inhaling the flowers scent. "You can't let the premonition of losing something hang over you. It would keep you from enjoying its beauty."

"Very insightful," he grinned and grasped my hand loosely. In his other hand, James discretely charmed the bud of a Bleeding Heart to open and close carefully.

"But I get it, there is mystery about plants, creatures, and books. A hidden story that makes each beautiful in its own way."

"Now look who's being insightful," I pointed out with a laugh. "You know, I think maybe we could have been friends at Hogwarts, James."

James paused. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," I smiled. "We had our good days, and you're not as much of a prat as I thought you were."

"Was that..." he trailed off and added a wide grin. "Was that almost a compliment, Sly?" He frowned, thinking after he said my nickname. He avoided eye contact, as if he expected something bad to happen.

"I suppose it was a compliment," I replied. "And only my friends call me, Sly. Are we...friends, James?"

It was my turn to be nervous, picking up my cup of hot chocolate to busy my hands. I felt his eyes on me, and then his hand at the small of my back.

"I think so," James explained tentatively. "Am I right?"

Relief eased into my body, a smile spreading on my face. I'd been smiling so much lately that my face was starting to hurt. "Yes, I meant what I said about us being able to be friends at Hogwarts."

"I like that we are friends now, Sly." James thought carefully before continuing, biting his lip nervously.

"I don't think we could have been friends at Hogwarts, though."

My smile faltered, as my stomach dropped.

"Oh," I commented. "Right."

James looked at me a long time, like he wanted to tell me something.

Instead he swallowed, shaking his head so that his hair fell in his eyes. I resisted the urge to push the lock off of his forehead. "Ainsly, I like you. But I was a prat at Hogwarts. I turned into the obnoxious, conceited git that everyone expected me to be."

"But that's not you," I stated firmly, taking a drink of my hot chocolate, only to find it empty.

James smiled sadly at me. "I told you that I'm trying not to be that guy anymore."

"Then that's what counts," I sighed, then smiled up at him. "And I like you, too, James."

We both just stood there, grinning at each other like a pair of fools. Then my watch alarm beeped noisily, interrupting the moment.

James cleared his throat. "Are you busy?"

"Um," I paused, glancing down at my watch. I had about fifteen minutes until the therapy session I'd scheduled. "I actually have an appointment, like now. We're working on a garden later at our place later, though, if you were at all interested?"

"Sure," he said happily. "I'd love to."

**XXX**

I didn't think he'd show up, but I had prepared Delilah and Anna anyways in case he brought Freddie and Simon. We were working on the garden, as in hands deep in soil and sweaty from the sun kind of gardening. This is the state that James, Freddie and Simon decided to drop in on us in.

"Hey Delilah," Freddie called out loudly. "I want to grow tomatoes, any suggestions?" His tone was teasing.

I sent a warning look to Delilah, pleading with her to be civil at least.

"Choke on them," she gritted out, pounding away with her shovel at the dirt.

"Oi, fine, no salsa for you then." Freddie pouted at her lack of attention, then he turned to me. "I always knew we'd find you in a meadow sometime, Ainsly."

I laughed, trying to get some of the dirt off of my cheek, but it was a lost cause. James jumped our small fence and walked over to me, staring at my face.

"I probably look like a gnome, huh?" I said to him, grimly. He tucked a flyaway lock of hair behind my ear.

"You'd make a cute garden gnome," James commented. "I must ask if you bite, though?"

I shook my head, grinning like a fool. "No history of biting here."

"Phew," James said, dramatically swiping the back of his hand across his forehead. He stared down at the flower I was caring for and looked pensive. "Is that...a daisy?"

I smiled down at the flower with bittersweet fondness. "Yeah. It is."

"You bleeding imbecile!" Delilah interrupted the moment as she lunged at Freddie, ready to jump the fence to get to him.

"A bleeding imbecile? Why does it have to be a bleeding imbecile, eh?" Freddie pointed at Delilah accusingly. "Always with the damn extended adjectives."

"What?" Delilah was flustered by the comment. "I've barely spoken to you in years, Weasley."

"A bloke never forgets a bird calling him a thunder twat," Freddie commented.

Delilah just released a sound of frustration.

"Bumbling," I added, earning some questioning stares. "She called you a bumbling, thunder twat."

"Right well," Simon offered up to the silence that followed. I was a little surprised that he hadn't ventured to the kitchen to find Anna.

"She right, actually." Freddie smiled as he recalled. "Delilah did call me that. Like I said, fancies adjectives. Bumbling...hey, doesn't that mean clumsy?" He frowned at Delilah, who rolled her eyes up to the ceiling without reply. "I am not clumsy."

"It also means incompetent," I stated, trying to be helpful. James seemed to be a few seconds away from putting his fist in his mouth to keep from laughing.

The two barely acknowledged my comment and began to argue.

"Want some tea?" I asked James and Simon. "I think Anna made some biscuits, as well."

They nodded, casting one last concerned look at Freddie, who was running away from Delilah because she was turning the watering hose on him.

"You crazy bird!"

XXX

A/N:

I don't own Harry Potter, history of flowers, or the song Star of the County Down. Thanks everyone for all your support!


	8. Looks Like Rain

**Hogwarts Sixth Year**

It was raining again. I watched as rain drops raced down the window of the barn.

"A faint clap of thunder...clouded skies...perhaps rain comes?" I quoted as I heard someone walk through the doorway.

"What's that from?" James cast a drying spell to get rid of the wetness that clung to his jumper. If you looked closer, you'd notice the etchings of an official Holy Head Harpies jersey. It fit him quite nicely.

"It's a tanka," I murmured distractedly. My hand arched as I captured the shape of the raindrop in my sketchbook. I was working on details to divert my attentions, not wanting to think so much today.

James gave me a strange look.

"What's a tanka?"

"Oh. It's from Muggle Japanese, like a short poem." I continued to sketch as I talked. I didn't want to get into the added fact that I was a huge Muggle anime nerd, as well, so I left that out.

"Ahh," James grunted, plopping down into onto the bench next to me. He loosened his tie and untucked his uniform shirt, running a careless hand through his dark hair. The untamed locks spewed raindrops everywhere, including the page of my sketchbook. He cringed at the blot on my attempted art. "Sorry about that."

I shrugged, directing a drying spell without batting an eyelash. "It's fine." It really wasn't, but he didn't need to know how long I'd been working on the sketch anyways. He probably didn't care.

"Is that rain?"

I nodded, which caused him to heave a big sigh.

"Not going to talk to me, huh?"

I turned my body away from him, feeling my shoulder skim the cold glass of the window. James boldly grasped my feet, dragging them into his lap, much to my obvious disbelief. He smiled at me, a small but genuine smile that softened the features of his handsome face.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot," he muttered.

I would have laughed at the cheesiness of the joke, but I didn't see the point if I wasn't going to exist to him in the next breath.

I pulled my feet out of his lap and kept my face neutral. "Careful. You don't want catch anything," I said stiffly. Like loser, my bitterness added in my head.

James cringed.

"About that," he started and paused, struggling how to put whatever he was thinking into words.

I held up my hand, peering out the window once again. "Save it."

"I know that I seem like a-" He broke off, avoiding looking at me as his eyes searched the rain outside.

"An egotistical prat," I supplied, folding my arms across my chest.

James deflated at my words. "Yes, I suppose that's what it looks like."

I gave him a hard look, and remained silent. In frustration, he ruffled his already messy hair again. Droplets of water flicked its way across the room and scattered on the ground like war artillery screeching inside my brain.

I felt a smoldering heat rush through me as my eyes took him in, while another part wanted to scream at him. I was hurt, but unsurprised. I was torn at the beauty and complexity of James Potter, but also firm in my decision to chuck him out of my life.

"Do me a favor, James." I spoke softly, standing up and placing my sketchbook in my bag.

"Tell me," he murmured despite a flickers of apprehension in his eyes.

I had his full, undivided attention now, as he waited for me to continue.

"Forget me." I spoke the words as clear and concise as possible before I walked out of the barn, missing the pained expression that spread across James' face as he stared after me.

After becoming soaked from walking up to the castle in the downpour, I somehow ended up in a corridor that was located on the basement level of the castle. I stopped near the painting of a bowl of fruit, which entranced my thoughts for some reason. The pear appeared to be painted oddly, which was something that always struck me as odd. I inspected it a bit closer, frowning up at it as the sound of my clothes dripping echoed from the floor.

"You have to tickle it," a voice informed me, and I jumped at the intrusion. Ryan smirked at me and wiggled his eyebrows. "I meant the pear, love."

"Right," I replied blushing, and glanced at the painting again.

Ryan must have read into my skepticism because he reached forward and tickled the pear. I stared at him, stunned and let out a gasp when the pear laughed. In a blink of an eye, the pear morphed into a door knob. He opened the door, gesturing for me to go through with a gentleman's bow. "After you, my lady."

I rolled my eyes and ignored the uncomfortable feeling in the out of my stomach, curiosity peaking my interest as I stepped through the door. The path lead me to an enormous room, which had high ceilings and a great brick fireplace roaring at the other end of the room.

"It's pretty neat, eh?" Ryan spoke closer to my ear than necessary. I shivered, which caused his smirk to become more prominent. The shiver was different than when I was around James... I wanted to shake myself for even comparing the two. They were both egotistical prats.

"Want something to drink?" Ryan asked, wrapping a casual arm around me. I declined the offer, shrugging him off of me easily. As I was examining the mass of brass pots on the shelves, I didn't notice that Ryan disappeared for a moment. He returned holding two mugs in his hands, smiling down at me. "I got us some hot apple cider."

Without thinking, I accepted and took a sip after he pressed the warm mug into my hands. I tasted sweet warmth and then the sharp bitterness of alcohol on my tongue. I spat it out back into the drink, cringing at the awful taste.

He sent me an apologetic look and laughed. "Sorry, I didn't mention it was spiked, huh?"

I threw him a dirty look. He merely laughed again and took a long swallow from his mug. "You need to learn to relax, Ainsly. You're so tense all the time."

I was about to object when a small cough came from below my elbow.

A house elf stared up at me with an eager expression. "Can Tinkie get you anything?"

I blinked down at her and smiled. "Do you have hot chocolate?"

"Yes!" Tinkie cried happily. I followed her as she shuffled along, watching her carefully. I stood beside her and mimicked her movements, placing a mug on the counter as the water boiled. Tinkie sent me a curious look, but didn't say anything.

"Would you mind joining me?" I asked Tinkie, which caused her to beam brightly. She allowed me to mix her hot chocolate and carry it over to the table near the fireplace.

She hesitated when her eyes focused on Ryan, who leaned casually against the wall next to the fireplace. He had a confused expression fixed on his face as he watched us.

"Please sit," I offered Tinkie, setting down the mugs of hot chocolate and sat.

"Tinkie...probably shouldn't," the house elf was obviously nervous.

"Whatever you want to do," I said kindly and drank a long gulp from my mug.

Tinkie rewarded me with a small smile, and took mug that I made for her. "Perhaps Tinkie will sit for a little while. Thank you, Miss..."

"Ainsly, but you can call me Sly if you want."

Ryan scoffed from the side, and I narrowed my eyes at him briefly before turning back to Tinkie.

"Thank you, Miss Sly," Tinkie said with a timid smile. We sat in comfortable silence, drinking hot chocolate with the fire crackling in the background. Tinkie and I chatted a little about her job in the Hogwarts Kitchen. It turned out that Tinkie had a fancy for dessert decorating. The smile that Tinkie had in her face as she talked about it lit up her entire face. I made a mental note to ask her another time if I could sketch her while she worked.

When we walked out of the Kitchens, Ryan was noticeably swaying and pretty pissed from many a spiked cider. I didn't know how he'd make it up to the Gryffindor tower, and to be honest I was only a little concerned. It was the guys own fault. And yet, here I was, hauling him up the stairs as he drunkenly flirted with me.

"So you allow a house elf to call you by a nickname, but not JP, eh?"

I stiffened, but kept my face neutral at his words. I kept up my pace, practically dragging Ryan down the corridor. "You know, there is a broom closet no one checks over there..."

The idiot's big head fell onto my shoulder as he blubbered about snogging. The portrait of Fat Lady should be coming up soon, I encouraged myself to continue and ignored him.

"So is that a no?" He breathed on me, attempting to lift his head to give me a smoldering look. Frankly, I thought he just looked constipated.

Merlin, he weighed a ton.

I rolled my eyes as I peered down the pathway. "That's a hell no."

Ryan tut-tutted me. "That's fine, love. You're kind of feisty, eh?"

I ignored him, heaving a sigh of relief when I saw the Fat Lady. The portrait hole opened, and with a stroke of luck I saw Simon.

"Simon!" I called out and pushed Ryan towards him, steering Ryan's wobbling body at his shoulders. I huffed out a breath as Simon caught him easily in his arms.

"Ainsly? What on earth happened?" Simon stared down at Ryan, who was shooting me a goofy grin.

"Oi," Ryan interrupted me from responding to Simon's question. "Go to Hogsmeade with me, ya?"

I just stared at him, refraining from answering the smug smirk on his face.

I shook my head in disbelief, turning away from him to look at Simon. "Don't know how much he's had..."

"But he's pissed," Simon finished, glancing down at his friend. Ryan wiggled his eyebrows at me suggestively. "Clearly. Thanks for bringing him up." There was a question in Simon's eyes, as if he wanted to add something, but he remained quiet.

"No worries," I shrugged, taking steps backward to get myself away from this situation.

"Oi," Ryan called out once my back was turned, and Simon tried to shush him. "Don't shush me, Moony."

"Don't call me that," Simon growled back, pushing Ryan towards the portrait hole.

"Oi, Ainsly. Did you go to the owlery today?" I heard his feet stumble, but I froze.

Turning towards him, I raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"I was at the owlery today," he hinted. "Had to send a letter." I blinked at him, confused. However, it was Simon's reaction that really threw me because he smacked Ryan upside the head.

"Stop it, Ryan. Now," Simon hissed. And then he rolled his eyes in my direction, "Git is full of it."

We said a quick goodnight and the portrait hole closed, ending all further discussion. Simon was right, Ryan was drunk and not making sense... but then, why were my feet lingering on Ryan's words.

_Could he be...? Was he Daisy?_

**Present (One Year Post-Hogwarts)**

"I'm having dinner with my parents and siblings tonight, actually." James bit his bottom lip, staring down at the tea I'd placed in his hands. I noticed that his eyes sparked more green today from wearing a forest green collared shirt. I had only become aware because he was peering up at me through those long lashes.

Surely that was the only reason, right?

I placed a chocolate biscuit on his plate. "That's fun. How is Albus?" I hadn't talked to Albus in what seemed to be ages.

"He's been well, finishing up his last year already. Al said Epona has been doing well, too. Hagrid let him fly with her recently." I smiled at the mention of Epona. I found myself missing her more and more as time passed.

I grabbed my muffin from this morning, planning on finishing it for a snack. Well, that's what I'd planned until James immediately started laughing at me. "What?"

He examined my half-eaten muffin. "Did you seriously just eat the top off the muffin?"

I looked back down at the muffin, which only had the stump left.

"So?" I picked it up and took a bite.

James just shook his head at me in disappointment. "You know what you are? You're like... a muffin destroyer. The top is the best part."

I rolled my eyes, chewed slowly, and swallowed. "What are you? A muffin Nazi," I commented. "It's the best part so I eat it first."

"But then you're just disappointed with the rest of it," James got fired up about the topic. "You just eat it all at once so you have a gratifying experience."

"I never knew you felt so strongly about baked goods," I deadpanned.

"This is serious, Sly!" He earned another eye roll, but I laughed. He turned to Savannah, who was speaking quietly with Simon across the room. "Hey, Greengrass. Has she always been a muffin destroyer?"

Savannah stared at him, slowly directed her attention to me, then to my muffin, and back to James.

"Mhmmm," she nodded. "Always."

James eyes examined me gravely. "My Nan would be so displeased with you." I was willing to bet his family would be displeased with me for many reasons, but I didn't want to think about that.

"Noted," I responded, taking another bite of my muffin. "But it's still tastes delicious."

His gaze flickered downwards and gulped. "I bet it does taste delicious."

"Uhhh..." My heart hammered in my chest at his comment. He was talking about the muffin, right?

"Perhaps there is only one way to rectify this situation," he grinned at me before replacing it with a forced solemn look.

"I fear I'm a lost cause," I commented with light, playful sarcasm.

"Never fear, my lady." James grasped my hand lightly, causing my heart to stutter. He must have processed my heated cheeks because his confidence faltered for a moment. James glanced away, catching his bottom lip between his teeth.

I'd like see what biting it felt like... wait, what? Bad, stupid thought. We were just friends.

When I met James' eyes again, he seemed nervous and expectant. He kept staring at me, and then I realized he must have asked me a question. "Uh, sorry, what was that again?"

"I said you'll just have to come to dinner with me tonight," James informed me. "To make sure you're not a lost cause and all of that." He smiled at me, hopeful.

"Dinner?"

"Yes, Ainsly. Where we sit down and eat in the evening." James was so cheeky sometimes, but when I glanced up from the table he was apprehensive.

"With your family?" I sounded stunned, and I gave him another out. I pointed my finger at my chest. "And me?"

"I'd be there, as well. Along with our pet Erumpent, Pork Chop, but he's more of an outside diner." He began to ramble, incessantly. James provided me with detailed description of Pork Chop's feeding schedule.

"You have a Erumpent?" I asked, slowly. "That you named Pork Chop." Half of me was shocked that he had a Erumpent, while the other half wanted to laugh because he named a fierce beast after butchered meat.

"Yes, well, it was dad's fault really. Dad asked me to name him when I was four and mom had made pork chops that night." James' face reddened. "I wasn't very creative apparently at that age." He fidgeted in his seat, moving his weight back and forth so that the chair creaked a little.

"Sure," I said. And then laughed at James' dramatic horrified face. "Oh stop. I was accepting your dinner invitation, James."

He beamed at me. "Oh right," he said. "Fantastic. I mean good. Great." He paused to take a deep breath and slowly let it out. "I'll let mum know."

"Troll in the garden!" Freddie screeched and burst into the doorway. He was dripping from being sprayed repeatedly with the water hose, which Delilah had been threatening him with. He clapped a soaking wet hand on James' shoulder. "Mate, we need to go before she waterboards me."

James rose from his seat and called to Simon. James turned to me before they left. "I'll come get you to side-along at around seven, ya?" I started to get nervous about the plans, but I nodded.

**XXX**

What was I thinking? I weeded through my closet twice, but remained unsuccessful in my search for wearing something appropriate to dinner with the Potter family. What were they going to think of me? How would James introduce me to his family? And more importantly, why was James introducing me at all?

"That's it," I declared, throwing all my clothes into my closet. "I'm not going."

Next I shut the closet door and sat down on my pile of clothes, releasing a groan of unbridled frustration. Back when I was a child, I had hidden in my closet every time my parents would fight. It became my shut away place. A whole other world that I could create, and imagine, and think in the darkness. I could stay there for hours just thinking.

"Sly?" Delilah walked into my room after what seemed like an hour. I could picture her pinched face searching for me and then her eyes landing on the closet. She sighed. "James will be here soon."

I stayed silent, blinking into the darkness as I tilted my head back.

"You cannot keep locking yourself away in your head," she stated firmly. "Come out of that closet right now."

It was a demand, not a request.

Delilah yanked open the door, pulled me out, and thrust a dress in my lap. It was a green lacy, off the shoulder number that was beautiful but unfamiliar. I shrugged it on after shedding my clothes.

"It's a new one that I'd been working on," Delilah informed me and gestured for me to do a turn in it. I did, smiling down at the silky fabric underneath the lace. "Not too formal, but not too casual. We did good, kid."

I rolled my eyes. She was a few months older than me and never let me forget it. "It's beautiful, Delilah. Thank you."

She smiled at my comment, squeezing my arm lightly. "I know you're afraid, Sly. But James seems like a nice guy."

I nodded quietly.

"How have your therapy sessions been going?"

"Helping," I said, meeting her blue eyes. "I'm doing a narrative about what happened. I started to tell her about the letters and...and about meeting him in the owlery." I forced the statement out. It was supposed to be easier the more I tried to talk about it, but it didn't feel that was right now. "Delilah?"

"Yeah?" She was tugging at my hair, braiding and clipping the locks in a half-up style.

I chewed on my lip, uncertain if I truly wanted an answer. "Do you think James knows?"

My heart pounded at the though. He couldn't know what his friend did, right? In every interaction James appeared appalled by the suggestion of causing me harm. Sure, he'd been a prat at Hogwarts, but he never caused me bodily harm. That fearful thought remained, though.

"I don't think so," she sighed. "But if he does and this is some game... There will be more than a slap on the wrist for consequences, I'll make sure of that."

I nodded again, hoping in my heart that she was right. There was a distant knock on the door and the clock I read said ten to seven. Huh, I never would have pegged James Potter for punctual.

**A/N**:

I don't own Harry Potter! Or the part of the Tanka that's from The Garden of Words by Makoto Shinkai.

What do you think about Daisy? How about Ainsly's interaction with Ryan? And what do you thinks going to happen when she meets the Potters?!

Let me know what you think! Review please!


	9. Quality Ingredient

**Hogwarts Year 6**

The storm was sudden when I'd ventured out into the Forbidden Forest, unfortunately luck wasn't on my side since my wand was in the dormitory. It figured that the sky would pour when I was without my wand, or an umbrella, though. On top of that, clumsy me, I almost made it worse by nearly slipping as I ran to the barn.

Arms shaking like autumn leaves, the raindrops appeared to defy all attempts to wipe them from my skin. A small river dashed between the stony cracks—once too long eyelashes crystallized by the plummeted temperature of the Forbidden Forest—until flushed cheeks thawed it into an oceanic view. More likely though, it probably resembled the melting of polar ice caps: a rising mess of a situation.

"It came down pretty suddenly, eh?" I jumped at the voice, snapping out of my thoughts.

James was on the other side of the barn, his face concentrated on the lightning that flashed among the clouds. "Got your wand?"

I shook my head silently, trying not to shiver at the gust of wind that attacked my drenched body. Drops of rain were sliding and falling down my elbows and onto the grass.

"Me either," he sighed. "I was in detention. Here," James reached out and held his Quidditch jersey in his hand. "You'll catch a cold."

I didn't take it so he moved closer, unceremoniously placing it on my head. I grasped the ends of it, unmasking myself to stare up at him. I probably looked like some strange, red and gold shrouded monk, but it warmed me.

"Dry off, please." He avoided my eyes.

The jersey smelled like him, but it also smelled clean. I didn't respond as I examined the fabric, gently running my fingers over the stitching.

"It's okay, it's still clean." He sent me a crooked smile. "Well, except the one time I wore it."

I wrinkled my nose and he laughed, teasing me as I dried my hair. I rolled my eyes at him, letting out a grunt of displeasure. It only spurred on his laughter.

Frowning, I turned away from him and crossed my arms across my chest. James walked past me and entered the barn after a few minutes, heaving a sigh to break the silence. My eyes followed his movements as the skies darkened.

From inside, James dropped down on a bench, carelessly spreading out his body as his eyes focused on the window outside. He seemed to be searching the darkened sky.

"likely won't be able to see Sirius tonight," he muttered, quietly, and sighed again. A look of longing entered his gaze on the clouded sky, which made the picture so hauntingly beautiful that my fingers itched to capture it. The question almost passed my lips and I chided myself.

Could I draw you for the sake of art and the beauty of a moment? Surely James would react arrogantly and take it the wrong way, anyways.

"The class pet for Advanced Muggle Studies died..."

I snapped out of my thoughts again, taken aback. James kept his gaze on the sky and rubbed the back of his neck, looking slightly mournful.

"Bugs?" I cleared my throat and tried repeating the rabbit's name.

"Yeah," James sighed.

"That's sad," I replied.

In the back of my mind, I remembered that group of Gryffindor girls kept feeding Bugs random food, most of which wasn't meant for rabbits. Isabelle Wood and her friends had told me to butt out when I attempted to intervene. But now...I felt guilty for not doing more to stop them.

"What happened?"

"I figured it ate something off. Izzie said..." he trailed off, biting his lip.

"You knew?" I clenched my jaw, thinking of the carelessness.

James Potter could have been the one to stop such foolishness and cruelty, but no... He was just as bad as the others sometimes. So many people admired and looked up to him, but he just squandered it all away.

"It was said that Bugs would eat anything. I always tried to stop Izzie when..."

When he looked at my face, James trailed off. "You think I'm lying, eh? That I'd just let them be cruel to a rabbit?"

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his school uniform pants. I just stared at him, letting the silence between us be my response.

His frown deepened, turning angry. "Fine. Don't say anything. I don't need this rubbish." With that he stormed out of the barn, leaving me to follow at his back with my eyes as he ran in the rain up to the castle. When he finally disappeared, I stared down at the Gryffindor Quidditch jersey in my hands and sighed.

Long hair dripped like a leaky faucet—as though begging for a change tonight.

**James' POV:**

Even the next day, her face lingered in my mind. I walked up the stairs with Ryan, who was being quite the prat today. He was staring at girls' skirts and waving his wand to try and cause a windy draft.

"Oi, would you look at that?!" Ryan muttered, practically gleaming. "I don't think I've seen a girl with a knee length skirt in a while. A classic."

The girl was walking up the stone staircase, completely oblivious with books hugged to her chest. She seemed familiar with her wavy brown hair, but I didn't recognize any Claw that had short hair like that. Ryan jumped a few steps and tugged on the hem of the girl's skirt, all the while laughing.

"Ryan, what are you doing?" I ran up the steps, grabbing the idiot's arm. I couldn't believe he'd stooped to basically sexual harassment.

Just in that moment, the girl being victimized swung her leg backwards and kicked at her attacker. However, the issue was that now I was there in Ryan's place because I'd pulled him backwards to try to stop him. My quick reflexes deflected the foot from landing a blow to my stomach, but my hand was not so fortunate.

As a result, my hand landed the blow and somehow I still managed to fall down the steps. My arse painfully met the stone floor and my side hit the wall. I groaned and held my aching ribs, while a group of girls squealed around me in concern. The girl turned around and my eyes widened, just as her mouth frowned. Ainsly.

"It was an-"

"Accident?" Her sea glass eyes narrowed into slits, causing my stomach to plummet into my shoes. Ainsly's chest heaved up in down in brewing anger. "Why is it always happening if it is an accident?"

Wait, the way that sounded... People were doing that to her?!

"Ainsly," I choked out. "You kicked me!"

"You pulled on my skirt, you prat," she hissed back, stomping her foot at me. "That's sexual harassment."

"It wasn't me," I glanced around and found Ryan missing from the group of people that crowded, or rather gawked at us.

A long sigh passed my lips, hissing it's way through my teeth in frustration. How did I always manage to look like a prat in front of her?

I took a step towards her, prepared to explain. Ainsly jumped up another step as my hand reached for her, so I closed it into a fist.

"You cut your hair."

"Shove off, Potter." Her eyes shined bright, focused on the wall as a self-conscious hand smoothed over the shorten locks. Ainsly's other hand slid into her bag, searching around for something.

Isabelle Wood, my on again off again girlfriend, stood off to the side with her friends. Her lovely long blonde hair shifted as she cocked her head to the side and nudged her Ravenclaw friend, Colleen. The girls smirked at Ainsly, whispered something to each other, and started laughing with their eyes pinned on Ainsly.

"Godric, the freak can't even act appropriately. Who let someone like it even in this school?" Colleen cackled at Isabelle's words, but my eyes were on Isabelle's cruel, sneering mouth.

My eyes flew back to Ainsly, who processed the words with a blank look before pulling earphones out of her bag. Without comment, she just placed them in her ears, pressed something in her bag, and continued walking up the stairs.

"She just ignored us," Colleen cried out dramatically and giggled. "That freak. Lame!"

I frowned, watching as the sight of her gets smaller and smaller. She was a force of nature. No matter what I did, she always saw right through me. When she looked at me with those eyes... it was like she was peering into my soul, which sounded so cheesy even to think it.

Sometimes I would just be walking, I'd look up, and there Ainsly would be. And each time I'd see her, she always seemed to shine so brightly. It caused an aching urge to be around her, which was turning into a problem when I was trying to be discreet. Now, it was bordering on painful. I should say something, anything...

Something poked me in the side, breaking me out of my thoughts and I found Ryan grinning at me. 'Where the hell were you a minute ago?' I fought back the comment.

"She's such a weirdo, eh?" Ryan laughed at his comment, rolling his shoulders in a shrug. "Girl barely ever talks. I bet a majority of Claws have never heard the sound of her voice. It's a bit pathetic really."

My hands balled into fists, holding my bag with a deadly grip as I attempt to remain calm. "I think she's kind of brilliant."

Ryan scoffed at me. "Clearly you hit your head too hard."

I smirked back at him and glanced at the hall that Ainsly disappeared down. No... I don't think that's it.

**XXX**

**Present Day (One Year Post Hogwarts Graduation)**

The home of Harry Potter was just like any Upper's, except it had a more homey feel to it. It was certainly an interesting mix.

James squeezed my hand gently. "I'm going to find mum," he pointed up the spiral staircase that I thought only existed in movies, or fairytales. Oh, I also saw one like it in a Korean drama—but it's name escaped me.

"I'll be right back. Make yourself at home." He ran up the stairs and disappeared.

"Right," I murmured, and walked over to a cream colored couch. The evasive titled Korean drama also had adorn shockingly white furniture, if I remembered correctly. Mom had always scoffed at the idea of light colored furniture because the stains didn't come out easily. However, in a magic using family that probably wasn't an issue.

After a few minutes of fidgeting, I got up and studied some of the moving pictures on the wall. There was a picture of Harry Potter with his arms around James and Al, ruffling their messy hair and laughing as Ginny and Lily shook their heads. The picture of them all made me smile, it was what a family was supposed to be.

There was a loud pop behind me, which made me jump and spin around. My eyes found Harry Potter standing in the hallway in official Auror garb. He must have heard me because he stiffened and then turned his bright green eyes to me.

"Hello," Harry greeted with a smile. He seem to visibly relax, deciding I wasn't a threat to his household. "Did you get abandoned?"

I glanced at the staircase that James disappeared up, nervously eyeing all the breakable items along the way.

I smiled at Harry's efforts to make me comfortable in this huge house. "Afraid so," I replied. "James went to get his mom, I think."

"Ahh," Harry observed, studying me. "Well, I'm Harry Potter. I don't believe we've met before?"

Everyone knew who Harry Potter was and any Weasley, as well. Their history filled our textbooks, so it was really no wonder that James had been famously popular at Hogwarts.

Which only made it all the more obvious—I was so out of my league here, my brain informed me with a sigh.

"Ainsly, sir," I introduced myself and exchanged a firm handshake. My eyes skimmed around the room. "You have a beautiful home."

"Thank you," Harry said, but then frowned at me. "What's your surname, Ainsly?"

I hesitated, uncertain of his interest in my name but rationalizing that he probably just wanted to know. "Murphy."

He peered at me strangely. "But wasn't your mother a Barebone?"

I stiffened. "That's...correct. But how do you know that?"

"Ainsly, it's my job to know these things." He sent me a stern look. "Especially if you're involved with my son."

My heart quicken at the thought of James speaking about me to his parents. My face burned. "My grandma's name was Barebone. Mum took the name Murphy later."  
I looked at Harry, tentatively. "It's not really my place to be telling you these things, Mr. Potter." My tone sounded clipped. Harry's eyes narrowed considerably.

"I would have to disagree," Harry said with a controlled voice. It was a little scary. "Where is your mother residing now? Our reports have come up empty handed."

I stared at him, bewildered. Why would he be interested in a Muggle family like mine? "Are we in some sort of trouble, sir?"

"Not at all," Harry shook his head. "Just getting to know you better."

"My mother is a Muggle, sir." I didn't understand his interest in her, or her former last name. "And she lives in Galway."

"And your father?"

"Also Muggle." I glared up at the ceiling, swallowed hard, and made direct eye contact with Harry. "My father isn't a part of my life, Mr. Potter."

"My apologies," he murmured, averting his eyes. "Forgive me, but was that before or after you and your mother moved to Ireland?"

So the famous Harry Potter must have really dug into my family history. Too bad there really wasn't anything to dig up, though. I wondered what he found in his search. Old passports and tickets of my mother and I traveling from America to Ireland. The shack we lived in before we had enough money for a flat. Late utility bills, or even the notices of our hot water being shut off? What about the electric?

I stared at the ceiling again, feeling quite uncomfortable. "Before. We lived in the States until I was about seven. A very rural area in Pennsylvania with a lot of cows and deer and forest."

"Do you know where your father went?" Harry studied me carefully, checking my every feature and body language.

"Nope," I replied with an emphasis on the 'p', forcing the memories away. "Father wasn't keen on us leaving."

All I remembered of that day was that my parents had fought after finding me playing outside. I had been alone, playing with a fox when my mother called out to me. The fox had been delighted that I could make the tree branches and flowers float. My father stormed out of the house, refusing to look at me, and mom packed our things. We left that night before my father had the chance to return.

I shook my head, repressing the memories. "I haven't seen or heard from my father since I was seven."

"He hasn't tried to contact you?" Harry appeared skeptical when I shook my head.

"No sir," I stated, confused. "But Mr. Potter..."

"Yes?" Harry asked with a hopeful look in his eyes.

"My father is a Muggle," I replied simply. "He doesn't even know about Magic folk, like my mother didn't know until I received my letter." So why in the world would you be interested in him? I added in my head.

"I see," he sounded disappointed and guarded. "Will you let me know if anything changes?"

"Changes?" I asked, hesitant and confused.

"If your father were to contact you," Harry stated in that authoritative tone. "Would you be kind enough to inform me?"

"Fine," I replied. As if that were ever going to happen. There was tension lingering between us when James returned with his mother.

James frowned, worried at the forced expression on my face. He looked between Mr. Potter and I, and realized something must have transpired in his absence.

"Dad. You said you wouldn't," he gritted out, his hands clenched tightly. "Mum! He said he promised he wouldn't interrogate, or use legilimency on her."

"He didn't," I said, and glanced over at Harry. "At least I don't think he did legilimency on me." I would have felt him prying into my memory, right?

Harry shook his head at my questioning eyes. "I didn't. I was just getting to know her a bit better, James."

James looked unconvinced, but seemed to let it go. Ginny, on the other hand, was full on glaring in disapproval at Harry. "Harry Potter, leave the poor girl alone. Goodness knows I had my fair share of brothers and family prying at their age."

Harry appeared downtrodden at the comment, but nodded his head and kissed his wife's temple. "Sorry."

Ginny's eyes then fixed on me. "It's nice to finally meet you, dear. James has talked a lot about you."

"Mum," James groaned with a light blush at his cheeks. I smiled at the exchange.

"James doesn't bring girls around very often," Ginny continued, a spark of humor in her eyes. "Anyways, it's a pleasure to meet you, Ainsly. I'm just going to check on dinner real quick. Would you like something to drink?" She asked halfway out the room already.

"No thank you," I said in a clear voice, but she couldn't hear me so I followed her to the kitchen. The house was enormous! I declined the offer again, this time within her hearing range. "Um...can I help with anything?"

Ginny started at the question. "Oh dear, I don't want to trouble you being a guest."

I felt better helping out, instead of waiting around and feeling useless. I mentioned as much to Ginny, which caused her to laugh and hand me a sack of potatoes.

"How's your wand work at peeling potatoes?"

"Average." I shrugged. "It's strange but I'm actually faster with a Muggle peeler."

"Really?" She inquired with interest brightening her eyes before she turned and rummaged in a cupboard. "My mum had me use one after dad brought it home. Nearly peeled the knuckle off my thumb the first time I used it. Dreadful thing, but I think I still have it around... Ah here it is!"

Ginny handed me the discovered peeler, the appliance ironically identical to the one my mother used. A wave of nostalgia consumed me as I began washing and peeling the vegetables.

"Funny," I muttered under my breath with a smile.

"Hmm?" Ginny paused and then gasped when she noticed I already finished six potatoes. "Bloody hell you're quick."

"Oh," I said slightly embarrassed. "My mom works in a pub and I've helped her out a lot over the years... Stews and potato pancakes and things."

"That's nice," she commented with a warm smile. "I was always helping out my mum, too. Do you get to see your family much?"

"Not too much these days. I keep in touch well enough, but it was just my mother and I for a long time living in Galway."

"You're accent... it's not Irish."

Swallowing thickly as I placed the remainder of the potatoes in the bowl, I met her gaze again. "I was born and lived in the States until I was seven."

"And then you moved with your mother..."

I sensed the follow up question even before she managed to ask.

"But what about your father?"

"My parents are... separated." I reasoned, finding that was the best explanation. "Bit complicated to put it mildly. Dad was quite the religious conservative."

My father had what amounted to a phobia of beings that are not quite, well, normal. His distaste was evident even at a young age, and all who challenged his opinion or world-view were not favored. And that was putting it mildly due to his fanatical sense of self-purpose.

Shoving the topic at the back of my mind, I helped Ginny make bread and placed it into the oven.

"Sorry for prodding, Ainsly." Ginny appeared a bit contrite, though her eyes still held restrained curiosity. "We're just interested in who James has been spending so much time with."

"Of course." I nodded and washed my hands as the man himself waltzed into the kitchen.

When we locked eyes, he rubbed the back of his neck and appeared apologetic for leaving me me alone.

"James, why don't you go take Ainsly out for a walk around the grounds? She's supposed to be a guest and she's helping more than you lot." Ginny took the oven mitts out of my hands, smiled kindly at me, and shot a disapproving look at James.

He smiled widely back at his mother, grabbed my hand, and pulled me out of the kitchen.

"Dinner will be done soon, James. Like ten minutes. Don't stray too far," Ginny called with a laugh.

"That means that it'll be like thirty," whispered into my ear, which caused an interesting mix of shivers and laughter. "Mum never times things right and it's always piping hot."

I smiled up at him, a bit shy with all the new surroundings. "Grounds?"

It wasn't exactly surprising that the Potter's would have a lot of land and practically an old British estate. Staring around at it all, it was quite a likeness to the Jane Austen books that I'd read over the years. It was really something.

James caught me staring around in wonder and grinned, taking my hand once more.

"It's beautiful, isn't it? I would spend my days out here growing up. Raising a ruckus, as my mum would say. It would have been a waste otherwise, eh?"

I smiled and nodded, laughing lightly. We kept walking until we neared a willow tree with its weeping branches reaching out towards a fence. In the distance, I saw a large creature with a pointed snout.

Squinting my eyes at it moved, my hands reflexively went to my mouth to mute my gasp. "Is that...?"

"Pork Chop?" James shot me another toothy grin, making a my heart skip. "Yeah, it is. He's fantastic. But he's a bit shy with strangers." He jumped up on the fence, ruffling his hair as he laughed and swayed on the wooden planks below him.

Considering Erumpent can be very dangerous and temperamental, it was surprising that the Potter's had only a wooden enclosure. When I glanced back over at James, he smiled back at me and jumped over the fence.

"James?" I reached out, as if my hand would catch him from the far distance he'd already covered.

"Just stay there until I tell you to come, ya?"

The back of my throat made a choking sound, muffling my protest to James so that I was merely left to watch as he skipped towards the Erumpent. My heart pounded as my head spun with all the information I'd researched and learned about Erumpents. Surely, James would be okay considering it was a childhood pet, right? Then why did I feel on edge... like I'd see him gored at anytime. It was dreadfully stressful.

"Alright Sly," James called out, patting Pork Chop on the back. "He's ready to see you, milady."

James bowed to me as I approached slowly. He must have sensed my caution because James awarded me with a heart-melting smile. Seeming like the picture of a perfect gentleman, he offered me his hand.

"He's pretty harmless because his horn is actually fake. Dad was only able to bring him home because poachers had sawed off his horn when he was young. It never grew back."

"That's awful." I gasped when James tugged on my hand, pulling me closer to his side.

"But he's amazing, isn't he?" With his other hand he smoothed a few strands of hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear as warmth filled me.

Eyes roving over the Erumpent, a grin broke out on my face as I nodded excitedly. "Yes! This is one of the best moments. I cannot wait to draw him later."

A tender light in James's eyes left me blushing enough for both of us, and I looked away quickly, trying to focus on the Erumpent again.

Pork Chop was beautiful as I studied him closely, but then I noticed something...

_Wait a minute_.

"James..."

"Ya?" I felt his eyes on me as I frowned.

"You know Pork Chop's a female, right?" I peered closer at the Erumpents underside, revealing the sex without disturbing the creature. Yep, definitely a female.

A look of horror morphed on his face.

"James! Dinners ready!"

**XXX**

**A/N**:

I don't own Harry Potter, or the content of Fantastic Beasts!

Please tell me what you think so far! Review!


	10. Chapter 10: Long Wait

Chapter 10: Long Wait

**Hogwarts Year 6**

**Sly's POV:**

My hands were shaking, crumpling the sides of the Daily Prophet that was clenched in my grasp. It was getting bad over there, according to the headlines...

American Muggle President Goes Back on His Word: **Condemnation** **of Witches and** **Wizards**...

Another story questioned:

**Will** **This Send Millions of** **American Magic Folk into** **Hiding**?

_On Monday afternoon the President of the United States held a press conference condemning the actions of this Saturday Anti-Mag rally. With an alarming turn of events, it was not the Anti-Mag rally, but rather the counter protest, that was awarded the Muggle president's reprimand. _

_Meanwhile, Anti-Mag rallies have experienced escalated violence in the streets. One woman walking her son home from school recounted a recent incident, which was determined later as a mixed Muggle-Wizard family hate crime_.

_"I was so frightened for him, my five-year-old son, and the hooded group that ambushed us were terrifying. It seemed as if they knew who we were, you know, from a wizard family. I know that sounds crazy because they were a bunch of Muggles...but the look in the one man's eyes. I've never seen anything like it. They were going to kill us." _

_When asked about the magical status of her son, the woman said, "Yeah, he takes after his father. He's been showing signs since about a year ago, but we knew how important it was to hide it. Especially nowadays." _

_Similar reports to the woman's have been made with the allegations growing more violent. Even more disturbing, a Muggle couple that frequently participated in the Anti-Mag rallies was prosecuted by American Aurors this week for drowning their four-year-old daughter. It was later discovered that the deceased child was demonstrating signs of magic. Moreover, a mother was caught and charged before attempting to burn her twins at the stake in a backyard fire pit. The Muggle neighbor, whom witnessed and intervened in the incident, had to be Oblivated accordingly. Fortunately, both children have been placed in custody and have notably demonstrated signs of magic._

_Families have been suggested to exercise caution when around these Anti-Mag groups. Also, a curfew has been set for residents to be inside before dark to decrease the likelihood of violent behavior during this time of crisis. Strangely, the American President has also issued a ban from neighboring counties, that are highly populated with Magic folk, from entering the United States_...

I stopped reading, a chill rolling over my body like a frigid autumn day. Would mum and I be safe now from it all?

"Whoa, you look a bit pale. Are you feeling alright? Watcha reading?"

I set the paper down on the table, revealing the face of James Potter. My eyes flint around the Great Hall, which is fairly empty at the early hour, before landing back on James. I greeted him with a sigh, but that was about it, and picked up my cup of tea. James grabbed the Daily Prophet off of the table and flipped through the pages.

From the corner of my eye, I saw him frown when he got to the page I had been reading.

"Bloody hell," he whispered, narrowing his eyes at the article. "I wonder if dad's-"

"Don't you have any friends?"

Delilah interrupted and demanded with a glare, and then searched up and down the Hall. "Great, I see Weasley waltzing this way now, too. You're a menace, you know that, Potter?"

She sat down next to me with a scowl on her face.

James just stared, beaming from ear to ear, down at her. "I do believe you just contradicted yourself."

"Can't you stalk Sly some other time?"

I choked on the tea that I was sipping and threw Delilah a dark look.

"Or, I don't know, not stalk her at all? Bloody hell, Sly, wipe that expression from your face. I wasn't being serious."

James opened up his mouth, "Well, of course not... because I'm-" and then Fred Weasley covered his mouth.

"No one wants to hear the serious/Sirius joke, Jamie." James glared at him and acted like he was going to bite Freddy's hand.

"And I like her dark looks," Fred Weasley remarked with a laugh. "Makes her seem extra sassy."

"Go jump off a broomstick, Weasley. Preferably from the top of the Quidditch pitch." Delilah grabbed the plate, which she'd been piling up mounts upon mounts of pancakes on, and slammed it down on the table.

Freddy stared at the mountain of pancakes, which stood a good foot and a half high, and laughed. "Got enough cakes, Olivander?" Delilah glared at him hotly as she poured syrup over the large stack, not breaking eye contact with Freddy even as she shoveled a forkful of pancake in her mouth.

He shook his head and smirked at James. "She's really quite mental, eh?"

James didn't respond, instead choosing to stare at Ainsly with a wistful expression on his face.

Freddy smiled at his friend's expression. "Alright mate," he said and clapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse us, maladies. I have to educate this bloke on the subtle art of pursing a bird."

He dragged a struggling James by the collar of his uniform away from the table.

"Maladies is an illness, you idiot!" Delilah yelled, through a mouthful of pancake I might add, down the Hall at Freddie. He just laughed and bowed at her dramatically.

"What. An. Idiot," she exclaimed, wiping some syrup from the corner of her mouth, but I could also tell that she was hiding a hint of a smile behind her napkin.

"Mhmm," Anna murmured, sitting down at the table and placing eggs onto her plate.

I put away my sketchbook and pulled out my letter, settling down into the cold grass. You could really tell when winter was nearing because the Hogwarts grounds became noticeably chilly, especially at night.

_Dearest Girl in the Constellation Shirt,_

_The stars have been shining so brightly lately. Did you take Astronomy? I never saw you in my class, and I would have definitely noticed otherwise. And not to be creepy, but I've noticed you stargazing outside since first year. I remember it like yesterday, the vision of your small body bundled in a winter poncho and the snow-covered ground. During that day, you reached a hand up towards the sky and attempted to grasp a star from the night. So beautiful you were...so beautiful you are, Ainsly. I hope that wasn't too sappy for you, but I meant every word. Some nights I'll walk the grounds when I cannot sleep, and during some of those nights I notice someone stargazing._ _Maybe one day I'll gain the courage to sit with you... Would you like that, too? I will eagerly await your reply_.

_Yours truly,_

_Daisy_

Pocketing Daisy's letter with a smile, I stared up and noticed that I could barely see the stars tonight.

"Oh, there's one." My breath makes a rolling fog at my words, and with cold fingers I make a box with my hands to capture the single star in the sky. My eyes snap a mental picture of the brightness with a dark backdrop.

"Tiny and useless, just like me..." I let my hands drop to my sides, staring up at the sky. I was not ready to go inside yet.

"You're not useless."

How was he always around? I didn't even bother glancing over because I knew my eyes would be greeted by the handsome James Potter.

"I've been meaning to mention this, actually. Stalking is illegal," I commented to the tiny star.

"True," James replied, and he sat down next to me.

I released a sigh. "Why are you here, James?"

"I noticed that you were sitting on the cold ground and became concerned with your mental health," he replied casually. "Never know with you Americans."

I glared at him. I didn't understand him. "I left America a long time ago," my voice hissed at him. "And there are a lot of issues going on over there that you apparently don't understand, so please... stop with the insensitive remarks."

I looked away from him while I finished my sentence, wrapping my arms around myself. People were dying and all he seemed to care about was how people looked... What if the Anti-Mag found us somehow? They were killing children, or attempting to, almost daily. If I had stayed in the States, would I be dead?

"Ainsly..."

I felt a hand pressed upon my shoulder, and then a gentle squeeze of comfort.

"I didn't mean it." Another hand was pressed to my other shoulder and my nose was reintroduced with the scent of James Potter's shirt. Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around me and I became filled with heat. "Sorry..."

"May my sighs be blamed upon the moon," I whispered, raising my head and staring up at the moon. "Or do my tears come from the feelings it invokes?"

I swallowed and cleared my throat, all the while blushing at the fact that I recited a poem randomly. Usually, the thoughts I had remained in my head but the fear buried inside was overwhelming.

"What's that from?" He smiled down at me, a look of relief washing over his face.

"Emperor Tenji, who was 38th Emperor of Japan. It's a poem written by him." I sent him a sheepish look. "Random, I know... sorry."

"Don't be sorry," James muttered and held me closer to him. I felt confused by his behavior, and then he pressed his lips on the top of my head. I freaked out, jumping and knocking him in the face with my head.

"Bloody hell, Ainsly."

"What are you playing at?" I stared at him, awaiting the answer to my question as he held his jaw, where I must have smacked him.

"Ainsly... listen," James bit his lip, searching for the correct words to say. "There is something I probably should tell you..."

He seemed so flustered, running his hands through his hair with a wild, desperate look in his eyes. He gulped, audibly, and then cupped my face in his hands.

James was the most popular boy at Hogwarts, even by all House standards. The social gap between us was immense. He shouldn't know I existed...and would easily forget me. So even the fact that this interaction occurred left me baffled. I didn't know what to make if it. Before I could manage blinking, let alone processing a thought or question, I felt pressure on my lips.

With wide eyes, my mind caught up to the thumping in my chest and the blurred vision cleared.

James Potter had kissed me.

**James' POV:**

Ainsly stared at me with wide, panicked eyes and mouth agape.

"Um..." I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly, a little stunned from the tingling of my lips. And, with closer inspection, I noticed that she was blushing pretty heavily. "Why are you blushing so much?"

Her hand lingered on her mouth, tracing the bottom and then her top lip. My thought jumped to how they had tasted like herbal tea and honey chapstick. The perfect combination. And then she slapped me across the face, causing a different kind of tingling that was like a bee sting. Or like that time that Lily got angry and hit me with her broomstick for not allowing her to fly in the rain.

"Bloody hell," I held my injured cheek. "You have quite the swing."

Ainsly just continued to stare at me with a hand over her lips. With I start, I realized that her hand was trembling.

Shite. Did she hate it that much?

"Wh-hy?" Sea-glass eyes brewed hotly in the moonlight.

"Because I wanted to," I said, my voice cocky. What was I doing?! I wanted to tell her that her lips were the best favor I ever tasted, not this arrogant shite. "You taste pretty good."

Why don't I just bury my head in a hole? Bloody hell and a hand-basket. I'm an idiot. I resigned to my fate, locking eyes on the ground below my feet.

"That...that was," her voice cracked in a whimper that made my eyes jump to her face. Ainsly's jaw was set, her eyes pinned on the night sky. "I'd never..."

"Don't tell me that was your first kiss," I whispered in realization. I was her first kiss! Say something smooth, Potter! Something Sirius or grandpa would have said in a romantic tone. "There has really been no one else...?"

Why? Why am I such a prat?

"No," Ainsly groaned, covering her face.

"Shite. Want to give it another go?"

Bloody hell! Why am I the way I am? I blame dad... and the entirety of the Potter bloodline for that matter.

"I don't understand you..." Ainsly muttered, shaking her head. "We are just way too different."

"That's not true," I reasoned with a shake on my head. "And sometimes different can be a good thing."

"Not this time, James." She shook her shortened hair and frowned up at me. "You... You're James Potter."

"So what?" I wasn't following her.

"You're rich and famous... and a bit be egotistical sometimes because you know it."

She stared up at the moon and continued, so I watched each word as it formed and flowed out into the night air. "You kiss girls because you want to... But a kiss without any affection behind it doesn't make some people happy."

But what she was really saying was...it didn't make her happy.

I watched her walk away from me once more, as a deep ache filled my bones.

Tell her, James... Damn it... Why can't you just tell her?

"While autumn leaves crumble under deer footsteps...the stag calls longingly for the doe," I murmured into into the chill of the night. Again, I watched as her figure became smaller and smaller, until she blurred into the darkness of the castle.

**Present Day (One Year Post**-**Hogwarts**)

**Sly's** **POV**:

"Mum's a loon sometimes," James said and rolled his eyes. "Dinner is so not ready. Why don't you spend some more time with Pork Chop, while I go help her? You can get more aquatinted with him-er, I mean, her." He beamed at me and before I had a chance to protest he had Apparate away.

I was alone for a good bit of time before I head footsteps approaching. They were light, and cautious but sure-footed. It was strange how familiar the steps were to James' footsteps, yet I could tell it wasn't him.

"Ainsly," a familiar voice said, which caused me to turn around. My spin must have been a little too startling for Pork Chop because she ran off. Traitor.

"Mr. Potter," I nodded at him, almost doing a weird head bow thing. I needed to seriously calm myself. "Everything alright?"

"Ah yes," Harry replied, while his emerald orbs searched the grounds. "I've actually been meaning to talk with you more."

I gulped, pretty audibly and tried to keep my voice causal. "Oh?"

"Do you remember your father?" This again? He's very persistent, I'll give him that but I'd been telling the truth.

"I don't remember much," I replied stiffly. And I didn't want to remember anymore, I added in my head with a venom that was unlike me.

"Ainsly," he sighed, sounding defeated. Harry stared at me intently, the look of pure concentration in his emerald eyes creeping me out. And then there was darkness...until there was light.

_Flashback_

I'm eight-years-old reading a manga, but I want the pictures to move. A frustrated feeling overwhelmed me as I stared at the page, imagining that it's like the anime show I'd watched. I'm closing my eyes and opening them, repeating the action over and over... Thinking hard to imagine it as the next part of the anime, so that the story will continue. And then, suddenly, I'm not imagining anymore...

"Mom look!" I called, a smile spread out on my face. "Dad's not going to believe this." I added, and then my smile fell, remembering that my dad's no longer here. And I don't want him to find us...

My mind spirals further back, until I'm four-years-old...

_Flashback_

"Ainsly, darling, what did you do?" My mother's kind voice and gentle hand guided my chin up to meet her eyes. I clenched my sore, bruised fists and squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to meet her disapproving gaze. My mother let out a sigh, dropping her hand from my face. "The clergyman said you were fighting today."

"They started it." I kept my eyes squeezed shut as I said it.

"Oh Ainny..." My eyes opened at the disappointment in her tone.

"Benji was singing that song to Daisy today. The one about about burning and a noose and drowning...it made her cry."

"What song?"

"I told him to stop it, but he wouldn't and he was laughing at her." I squeezed my fingers into fists as I spoke, still not looking at my mother. "So I punched him."

"Ainsly," my mother said urgently. "What song?"

I stared at her, blinking slowly. "The catching witches song. You know, my momma, your momma..." I trailed off, not wanting to continue. Meanwhile, my mother's reaction was to squeeze my hand in surprise.

"Where did you learn that?" Panicked sharpened her tone.

"Bible school," I replied, feeling like I was about to be scolded. Instead, mom just tugged on my hand and we walked down the street. She was unusually quiet... I had hoped she wouldn't tell daddy about me fighting Benji, but if she didn't the clergyman would. Either way I'd lose...

Later that night, I was coloring up in my room when I heard shouting from downstairs. I'd tiptoed to not make any noise, which made me feel sly and sneaky.

"Do you think you can forget it?!" My father screamed, voice trembling in rage. "It's a part of her that needs to be ripped away."

I was four-years-old listening from the top of the staircase to my father and mother. I didn't understand it. Was it about me again? What was wrong with me?

"There is nothing wrong with her. She's just a child, Cal."

"She hit a kid during services today-"

"Because she was protecting another child when they were singing that horrible song," my mother's voice interrupted. There was a loud smacking sound and a thud that followed her words.

"Do not interrupt me, Faith. I am a Scourer."

My heart pounded at the frigidity in his voice. "Ainny! Come down here now!" His voice boomed up the stairs, causing my eyes to burn with unshed tears. I was in trouble again.

_End_ _Flashbacks_

I panted, exhausted in the action of having my memories resurfaced and dissected. I felt wetness on my cheeks, and my fingertips showed the evidence of tears.

"A Scourer," Harry whispered, conflict in his eyes. He must have received the information that he wanted. "Your father is a Scourer."

I just stared at him silently, too confused to speak.

"Do you know where he is Ainsly?" He sounded rushed and uneasy.

"No," I forced myself to reply and shook my head, slowly. I didn't know. And I didn't want to know, or remember.

"..." An awkward cough followed his silence. And a guarded, yet sheepish look mixed into his emerald orbs.

I glared back at him. "Not going to force me to remember my childhood anymore?"

He had the decency to appear regretful. "I have to protect my family, Ainsly. You must know that."

"Wonderful job," I replied, walking away. "And maybe...if you would have asked I would have voluntarily offered up some of my memories, rather than getting my mind wrongfully searched."

Would that technically be a seizure as well? Dear Merlin...Thankfully, Harry Potter didn't follow as I stormed away.

Leaning back against the tree trunk, I started lightly rocking my head against the rough bark. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

"What are you doing, Sly?" A pair of emerald eyes stared back at me, peering at me with a confused expression on his face. Fortunately, it was only Albus Potter.

"Oh, just trying to wake myself up." I answered Albus with my eyes shut.

"That seems more like a way to fall asleep. Like forever..."

"Uh-huh," I replied, still too exhausted to think properly. There was a long, uncomfortable pause as I felt Albus studying me.

"Okay. What's wrong with you?"

"Always the blunt one, aren't you Albus?" A small smile raised the corner of my mouth.

"Well your acting all weird and drained. Someone do legimency on you?"

My response was to open one eye at him, releasing a big sighing.

Albus paled a bit, but did not appear highly surprised. "Dear old dad?"

I nodded, a dull feeling overwhelming me as I watched him.

He ran a hand through his black hair, permitting a resigned sigh of his own. "James is going to be so pissed when he finds out."

"Mmmm."

Albus shook his head and laughed as he continued, "But that's nothing compared to how livid Mum's going to be at the Savior of the Wizard World." Albus laughed harder, holding his sides. "He's screwed."

And that was when I decided that I'd had enough for today. "I think I've had enough for today. I'm going to go," I said to Albus.

"Wait a second. Please. At least talk to me a bit," Albus said with a hint of plea.

"It's okay, Al. Have a good dinner and tell James I'm sorry for leaving so suddenly."

"Ainsly! Wait, dammit—"

My feet carried me over to another huge Willow tree and then I decided to run. When I was a far enough distance away from the Potter estate, I pulled out my cell phone, dialed Anna's number, and explained what I needed to.

"Anna?"

"Mmmm," she drawled.

"I want to leave," I noted in a forced calm voice.

"Mhmm," she replied, and then I find myself being side-along Apparated. No questions asked.

Will James understand? I should have probably left a note or something...

**A\N:**

* I'm an anime/manga enthusiast so mentioned poems that are seen in Chihayafuru in the Second Season!

* Also, I do not own any of Harry Potter or Fantastic Beasts content.

Please let me know your thoughts! The plot thickens!


	11. Incenio Part One

**I do not own anything pertaining to the Wizarding World!**

**XXX**

**Chapter 11: Incenio Part One**

**Hogwarts Sixth Year**

**James' POV:**

I sat down next to her, waiting for her to sigh or raise a sarcastic eyebrow at me. Or, you know, call me a tosser and walk away based on our last interaction. I really had made a mess of things. And yet, she hadn't budged or so much as blinked her eyes away from the book she was reading. As I studied her, I noticed smudges of ink and graphite on her right hand. She must have sketched this morning because my eyes didn't locate her sketchpad anywhere around her.

Without warning or acknowledgement, Ainsly moved onto her knees and then stood up without taking her eyes off the page that she was reading.

Meanwhile, I just stood there like an idiot staring after her as she shuffled away. Walk, pause, shuffle, and then she repeated it all over again. I managed to jog silently up to her, so that I didn't startle her, but Ainsly appeared to be in a trance. It was fascinating to watch her move, her eyes dancing along the page, a smile peeking out every once and a while. I nearly jumped when she released a chuckle, which was so genuine that it lit up her entire face. It felt like I was witnessing a secret, intimate moment of hers. Yet, she wasn't even aware that I was next to her!

I had to bend and tilt my head to read the title of the book, but grinned widely when my eyes caught the name: Newt Scamander.

She continued walking with me trailing behind her. Nearly jumped out of my skin when she cleared her throat and blinked her eyes up me.

"Starting to think your trying a hand at stalking," she muttered and glanced back down at the book in her hands.

"Not trying a hand, per se..." I bit back a response that could have come off as creepy. It was probably best to change the subject. "I always see you in the library, or outside with your sketchbook or a book. Are books your friends?"

"I suppose." The corner of her mouth turned upward.

We walked along the Black Lake when we saw a figure floating on the surface of the water. When we got closer, we were presented with Freddie on a board, barely clothed with the towel around his neck fluttering in the breeze. "Are we witnessing the birth of Venus?"

Ainsly covered her mouth, muffling her laughter. For once, I felt like our interaction was sparkling with luck. Thank Merlin.

Mum always said not to tell a woman to smile, rather a man should give her a reason to laugh and it will happen naturally.

"Wotcher, JP!" My attention snapped upwards, as my body froze and drifted away from Ainsly. She barely even twitched in my direction, again, before continuing down the path. Ryan was floating above me on a broomstick. "Class was cancelled, so we came to enjoy the sun before it gets bitter cold out. You have a free period, ya?"

"Yeah," I replied distractedly, watching Ainsly from afar. I felt like I'd been doing that a lot.

"Ahh," Ryan said as he followed my gaze. "I'm thinking of sending out a letter. Should be fun to see the response. We should consider a meeting."

I gulped, a hallow feeling entering my gut, but I nodded my head with a smirk of my own.

Once again, I asked myself the question: Is this the person I want to be?

**XXX**

**Sly's POV:**

I've been timid and shy ever since I was young. When I was around people, they barely even noticed my existence. Simply put, especially after moving from the States, I was afraid of forming new relationships.

However, this type of personality was bound to cause problems at some point. By the time I started Hogwarts, it had began to have a negative effect on me.

My innate shyness was crippling, and because of it, I was always alone. I wanted to form new relationships like everyone else, but there was a flaw within me. The problem was, I instinctively recoiled from other people.

Meeting someone's gaze, observing their words and actions, became a conundrum of sorts. Empathizing and responding to every social cue and little emotion was exhausting.

Luckily, I met someone whom felt similar: Anna Greengrass.

"Honestly! You both are hopeless!" Delilah would exclaim after numerous beats of silence. "And if you're really so sensitive about making eye contact with people, just use something else. You're good so use this!" She had slammed a pencil case down onto the table, encouraging me to draw.

After the first few years of school, my gloomy personality and shyness seemed to improve a little. But facing other people, not my close friends, remained a separate issue. Just because my personality shifted a tiny fraction, didn't mean there had been a fundamental change in my nature.

Right? I had been pondering that thought as the hours of the day blended together.

I was packing up my books, shoving them into my bag as class ended. Thankfully, it was the last class of the day... I really liked school, but the attitudes of my peers were beginning to grate on my nerves.

Isabelle and Colleen had managed to get half the class coughing, "Freak," as I tested my potion and handed it in to Slughorn. Right now... I simply wanted to forget it. Why do people always lump unpleasantness on top of unpleasantness?

"Miss Murphy, please come with me. You, as well, Mr. Potter."

Strange, I hadn't even noticed James today...

Professor Longbottom winked at James and I stared up at the ceiling. When we made it to his office, Professor Longbottom ushered us inside and gestured to two chairs.

"Would you fancy some tea or a biscuit?"

I blinked at him silently at first, but then smiled and thanked him as he pressed a warm cup between my palms. "So I noticed you both have not turned in your Post-Hogwarts career sheets..."

I froze, with the rim of the tea cup at my lips, before lowering it and answering. "Sir, I am not going anywhere."

"But you're a very bright student, Ainsly," Professor stuttered out, appearing flustered.

I smiled politely at him, feeling James' eyes on me, as well.

"It would be a shame to waste all that..." The cogs of his mind appeared to be overclocked—desperation creeped in.

"My family doesn't have the funds for that sort of thing, Sir. I might go one day," I supplied. "Just not now."

"I see..." Professor Longbottom looked troubled, but didn't say anything more to me. His eyes turned to James, waiting expectantly for his answer. "What about you, James?"

"I'm rich. I don't need to go to university." James shrugged. "And I suppose scouts have been looking at me for a while, though, so I have Quidditch."

I stared at the ground, feeling small and frankly a bit angry with his response. The pompous prat. I'd resigned myself to not attending university, not to mention the Magaziologist academy, for a while now.

"Pity," Professor Longbottom commented, awarding James a long look. "I know someone who would be sad to hear that attitude."

"You and me both, Nev-uh, Professor." James' eyes glanced over at me, checking my expression and I willed my face to remain blank.

"Well, I'll leave you both to think about it. And, just so you know, I sincerely hope your feelings change."

After one last attempt at a discussion, Professor Longbottom excused us and released a sigh of his own.

For some reason, James had followed me to the library and I was forced to acknowledge how much popularity the Potter name contained.

"Hi James!" Another feminine voice called out, followed by a mass of giggles from yet another group of girls.

He bellowed a friendly, charming greeting in reply. Hoping he was momentarily distracted, I quickened my pace.

"Wait James! Where are you heading so quickly?"

"Uh, just hanging out with Ainsly here..."

Wait, he actually admitted being around me to others? Had Professor Longbottom spiked his tea?

"Wait, you're hanging out with her? You're joking, James. No way," the girl shouted out from behind us and laughed. "Did you lose a bet?"

I practically sprinted down the hall at that point. I didn't need that crap right now, or ever, to be honest.

These were the days where the message hit me with full force: I was ready to be done with Hogwarts and be an adult. Sure, it wasn't always like this... in first year, people tried to talk to me and connect with me, but it always felt forced, or fake. They talked, I answered, but it was like we were communicating from two different pathways. Then they seemed to clue into my personality.

People talk to each other when they know that there is nothing left to say. If that's what it's all about, then maybe I'm better off alone.

I'm not so misanthropic that I dislike people... I just really wish they would stop talking sometimes. I can smile, laugh, and play along.

Yet, I don't mind being alone. If anything it's quite gratifying. But, while I don't mind being alone, it's strange because I don't want people to get the impression that I have no one. It can be quite the contradiction, which no one seemed to comprehend except Anna and Delilah.

"Oi, Ainsly! Wait up." I heard him jogging down the hall, but I didn't bother turning around. "Man you're fast. Have you ever tried out for Quidditch, or other sports?"

"Nope," I replied, quietly shaking my head.

"You should consider it," he remarked, ruffling his hair and rubbing at the back of his neck.

Our footsteps ceased when we reached the library and I arched an eyebrow up at James. When he saw me glance at him, James grinned, shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers, and casually rocked on the balls of his feet. "Library, huh?"

I nodded stiffly, uncertain what he was playing at, or planning. Was this all do to a bet he lost? If that's the case, I should clear this up really quick.

"If this is about a bet..." How was I going to put it?

"A bet?" He asked, sounding puzzled.

I waited, watching as his eyes widened.

"Oh no! No bet. If it were a bet, I'd have you in a broom closet by now," he commented so casually that I just stared at him, momentarily losing my concentration. What the hell?

"In a broom closet," I repeated, as if saying the words out loud would decipher the confusion. And then it clicked that I should be offended by that statement. "Shove off, James."

The prat. My hands busied themselves, grasping onto the think bindings of several books as I walked over to the table near the back of the library.

"No no, I didn't mean it like that," he laughed.

Yeah right, I snorted.

James' hands waved at me, denying he meant any offense, and then he ran a hand through his hair again in frustration. After taking a deep breath, he stared at me patiently with a smirk.

That look had never led to something good.

"Have you ever been in a broom closet?"

My movements paused again at how casual James asked about the intimate moments of my life, or rather there lack of. Setting my books on the table and stowing my bag on the seat beside me, I frowned at him as I opened my potions book. It was probably best to ignore that question. My loser reputation didn't need the inexperienced label added onto it.

After pulling out some parchment, I bent a little closer over Advanced Potion-Making began writing my essay on Golpalott's Third Law. Hmmm, alright, so the antidote for the blended poison will be equal to more than the sum of the antidotes for each of the separate components...

"Ainsly." I blinked up at James, remembering his lingering presence. "Did you hear what I said?"

Idiot.

Setting down my quill, I shook my head at him and said, "Hmm. No. I was working on my essay."

I glanced back down at the textbook and pulled out my notes. Strange, I didn't finish this note that we'd been told in class. When I'd practiced making it after class last week, why didn't it work?

"Ainsly," James whispered my name again, directing my attention to him. "I had said I had the rest of the notes from Potions if you needed them."

"Oh," I said, lamely. "Um, that would be great. Thank you." James smiled and pushed his notes towards me. After a moment of scrutiny, I realized that this wasn't going to work. "James..."

"Yeah?" He smiled back at me.

"You have awful handwriting," I observed. "How do you read this?"

I furrowed my brow as I tried to read his writing and he laughed a little to loudly for the librarian.

"Ssshhh," the librarian warned, eying James disapprovingly.

In frustration, I silently went back to my textbook only to find that there was no explanation for the law. I placed my head down on the table, pondering a solution to my problem. Maybe I could ask the professor about it? No... it's an answer for the homework assignment. Ugh.

James slid my notes away from me and looked them over. There was a long moment of silence between us, until he cleared his throat. "Oh you need the explanation for that law, which Sluggy just told us to figure it out. But use a bezoar."

I lifted my head, peering up at him curiously. "A bezoar? Like in goats stomach."

My fingers flipped through the pages of my textbook until I got to bezoar. Relief settled over my body and I sighed, placing my forehead back on the table.

"Woah, what's wrong?" James asked, placing a hand on my shoulder and leaning closer to me.

"This is fantastic, James. Thank you so much," I murmured into the wood of the table.

"Oh, you're welcome. It's no trouble, honestly."

But it was a bother; of course, he didn't understand that because everything always seemed to come so easily to James Potter. This was certainly no exception.

"I just wish I could figure it out that easily," I whispered. Why can't I be...more like you, James? Without all the arrogance sometimes, but still... Why can't I do it? It's so frustrating. I'm supposed to be a Ravenclaw, so intelligence is a characteristic of our house.

I heard James shuffled in his seat across from me, until I felt his head next to mine.

"Don't feel frustrated," his warm breath stirs my hair causing me to swallow with difficulty. "It's not so easy for me either a lot of the time. I struggle to keep up with the pressure. Maybe it's appears easy for me because I act like I don't care, you know?"

I turned my head towards his voice and found my nose near his mop of hair, so much so that I could smell his shampoo. With a deep inhale, my brain processed that he smelled nice. It faintly smelled sweet and herbal.

Meanwhile, as I considered his words, I realized that James Potter was trying to make me feel better. Was that an accurate assumption?

He was so hard to read. At times, he had serious mood swings, and I can never truly decipher what he's thinking. Sometimes his words and actions feel out of place, so much that becoming involved with a person like him... would likely get very tiring.

"James?" I began, uncertain if he even heard my hushed tone.

"The fact that you try so hard, that you put so much dedication into studying and everything, is just proof of your determination and intelligence."

Suddenly, James turned his head and my eyes met his with our faces about an inch apart. For a long moment we just stared at each other, stunned at how close we were. So near, that I could make out the flecks of green and brown in his hazel eyes.

James' eyes flickered to my lips before turning his head back around. "If anything, you have more determination than I ever have. So that makes you much more intelligent and... respectable than me."

I tilted my head up, inching closer to hear his softened words. "You don't think your intelligent, or respectable?" The Potter's were one of the most respected families in the wizarding world, so it was bizarre to hear those word come out of James' mouth.

"People always blindly come to the conclusion that I'm intelligent and respectable because of the Potter name. So much so that they fail to see me. It's easy for me to do things half-assed."

The words he was saying were so foreign to his normal attitude. It was like a stranger inside James Potter revealed himself to me at times. That James, the one inside the arrogant prat, was someone I wanted to see and understand. He was someone I wanted to know.

As I pondered this newfound persona, I'd unconsciously been getting closer to James head of hair. The next thing I knew my nose inhaled James' shampoo, and I recognized that the sent was tea scented.

"Ainsly," James said softly, raising his head to look me in the eyes. I blinked back at him. "Do you... well, do you fancy me?"

I gaped at him, silent and, quite frankly, terrified. I should have just remained wordless and see if he continued. To see if he genuinely meant the things he was saying, and that they were not just a joke.

Instead, my words bubbled up like defensive word vomit. "You think a lot of yourself, huh? That that's a thing you just casually ask about yourself."

His hazel eyes hardened. "You were the one nuzzling up to me and smelling me. I thought that I was giving you the wrong impression, or that you were one of the more discreet fan club girls."

I rolled my eyes at him, again, and packed up my belongings. "I'll be going now."

Yet as I stood to leave, I couldn't help but notice one thing about him through all of this. James had a particular habit. It's small, really.

When he's about to show a genuine emotion, he tries to hide his expression—whether it be to ruffle his hair or hide behind his hand. It's the small details that I'd begun to notice.


End file.
